Into the Wolf Pit
by Rats-of-the-sky
Summary: "Congratulations," Rosetta says to Kyoya. "You're getting married tonight." "Ho, to you?" Kyoya replies. He nearly drowned her this morning when she cursed him in Italian out of boredom, trying to see how far he understood the language. "Who else?" She wrinkles her nose. "Your father is not going to find a better deal. You should be celebrating." HibarixOC. Revised!
1. Prologue

**A Note to the Readers:** I was scrolling through this website, trying to look for an original character that's not too much of a stereotypical self-insert. I got tired, I got disappointed and then I drank four cups of coffee for courage and nabbed my sister's phone to make an account and produced _this!_

Warnings: This is mostly OC centric. It's a romance (Update! It is still a romance but somebody pointed out it is quite slow). On the bright side if you are interested in a plot that verges into AUs this story is for you! Original canon will be trampled upon -but preserved still- and the representation of the mafia will be, well, the **Mafia**.

Pairing will be with Hibari Kyoya.

The prologue will be filled with OCs but the rest of the chapters won't be. I hope you have fun!

 **Another Note to The Readers:** After April 12, 2019, this fanfiction, until the latest update already underwent edits, changing several aspects of the story. If you've read this beforehand, I apologize for my fickle and finicky nature. You don't need to reread everything if you've read until Chapter Eleven. The greatest change might be Kyoya, who now has a democratic approach to violence –he will beat women, children and the elderly if provoked… and conversations are altered to flow a bit better. (Clunkiness of convos are my fault since I have below average communicative skills in English) Rosetta is a touch calmer too… that's basically it!

If you're new here, I hope you enjoy the ride!

* * *

 **Prologue**

The girl tears her hand out of her retainer's grip as they enter the threshold of the Hibari's safe house. This won't do. She cannot be a child anymore.

Rosetta is small for her age, dwarfed by her oversized nightdress, nearly shivering from the cold. Now limping behind her is her father's remaining retainer. There is a gun in his hand and blood on his clothes.

"Signora," the retainer says, pleading. There is a cut above his eyebrow, leaking blood down his collar. "This is not a good idea. Your father–"

"He's _dead_. His thoughts have no sway over this." She says resolutely, her eyes stinging. The household servants lead them through an empty hallway to a fully furnished living room. She tries not to look at anyone. There is no sympathy for her.

Her companion asks her to sit, but she declines.

"Signora, please, I implore you to reconsider."

When she does not reply, he tries again.

"If you have nothing important to say then please, get out," she says. She wishes can sound like an adult.

Cosimo holsters his gun. He wipes his hands on his suit and presses his fingers against his eyelids. "Signora. This is not the way." He speaks solemnly. "You are now the boss of famiglia Santoro, you cannot throw your life so easily. It was a mistake coming here. He cannot help you."

"And you can?" Rosetta asks her retainer, not unkindly, her lip trembling from the effort not to cry. "They killed everyone, even my father's guardians and slaughtered my family in their beds. It's a miracle we got away."

"Your family can help." Cosimo presses on. "Your uncles will help you."

"Loyalty to kin is superficial at best, famiglia Santoro is known for its infighting. Cosimo, I am twelve years old! I can't be the head! Who is dumb enough to listen?"

"Apparently, I am, since you came here of all places."

A tall Japanese man, built with the grace of a mountain lion steps into view. Hibari Ryuusei places his right hand on his chest and bows, observing in the pair dispassionately. "My condolences, your father and I were good friends," he says without sincerity. He is the master of the safe house.

Rosetta nods once. If she climbs the safe house and peers through its glass windows, she can still see the plumes of black smoke spewing out from her childhood home.

"You went to the estate this morning with your son," she says tilting her chin, unwilling to beat around the bush.

"A failed endeavor," Ryuusei says, sounding downcast as he leans heavily on his sleek black cane.

"You wanted me to marry him for an ample hold in Naples and my father rejected your proposal." Rosetta forces a smile. "My family is dead. I am now by blood the heir of famiglia Santoro. I wish to marry your son."

Ryuusei's lip curls in a parody of a smile. "Slow down signora. He tried to drown you in the fountain this morning, did you find him charming?"

"I insulted him. He pushed me and I couldn't swim," she corrects after sucking her teeth and continues. "If I marry him tonight, I will name you the don of my family until I come to age–"

He hides his surprise pretty well.

"I might have been your father's friend, but I am not interested in fighting your uncles for your inheritance."

"No. You won't have to fight," she clarifies. "It will force my family to accept your claim. Marriage and religion tie our clans together. They cannot deny you."

"Signora, this is madness," Cosimo says from the behind her. They ignore him.

"Why me?" Ryuusei smiles, leaning against one of the larger couches.

"I might live a little longer if I'm under your protection, Hibari-san." She says, her tongue tripping over the proper pronunciation of his last name. "At this day and age, only you are strong enough to represent the Yakuza. You pay your debts flawlessly. The Italians will not cross you to kill someone like me." She tries for her father's smooth flattery but ends up sounding desperate.

"Don't lie," Ryuusei smiles indulgently. "I hate lying more than anything. You're begging for my help, it should never have crossed your mind."

"I'm sorry," Rosetta says too quickly. She isn't lying to him, not entirely. But perhaps he wants a different response. She straightens her spine and clenches her fists, trying to look older than she really is. "I hate them all. I don't know who killed my papa. But they spoke– they're _Italian_. They're my blood. They… they could be anyone but you."

"I could have hired your countrymen," Ryuusei shakes his head. He lifts his cane and Rosetta sees the hollow end. She always thought of the cane as a concealed sword. Hibari Ryuusei is a traditionalist after all.

She flinches as Ryuusei fires. The bullet embeds in Cosimo's cheek. His own gun clatters on the ground in a dull thud. A second ago it was inches behind her skull.

"Then again," Ryuusei says, more to himself. "I'm not known to hire outside my clan."

Rosetta shuts her eyes. "I've known Cosimo since I was a child, he would never betray me." She feels his warm blood seep under her left heel.

"Does he have a family?" Ryuusei asks, his voice going soft. He approaches her slowly and makes an odd sound as if trying to soothe her.

"A wife and a son, Henrico." Realization dawns to her. Rosetta looks at the corpse, at the bullet hole on his cheek and sees darkness staring back. She kneels beside him despite the trembling in her stomach and pushes his eyelids shut, he deserved better.

"Many would do anything to save their kin. He is a traitor. You should be happy to see him dead." Ryuusei has the fingers of a pianist and it seems like he has no compunctions about getting vomit all over them. He unfurls a handkerchief from his pocket, wipes her cheeks and her hands clean and leads her away from the corpse. Beyond the walls, she hears the familiar sound of fighting.

"Were you followed?" he asks.

Rosetta shakes her head.

"I don't think so."

"He must have informed his companions. Move away from the windows, my dear." They move further inside the safe house. Ryuusei barks short orders to his men, never raising his voice once. He calls specifically for someone. A tall, lean man with cropped hair and circular spectacles crosses through the throng of suits to meet them. Ryuusei speaks in rapid Mandarin and hands her to him.

Rosetta resists the urge to reach out for Ryuusei when she's harried elsewhere. The spectacled man doesn't speak Italian and her understanding of Mandarin is rudimentary at best.

"I am Hibari-san's right hand. My name is Kusakabe Takenaka." He says in her language as they descend below the ground floor. Furnishings are sparse here, the walls mainly reinforced metal. Takenaka notices the state of her feet and hauls her up without warning. Rosetta holds back a scream.

"You'll stay here," he says, opening a door with the swipe of a card. "I will call your living family to witness the marriage and I will find a priest."

"You can't leave me," Rosetta hates how desperate she sounds. She shouldn't have opened her mouth.

Takenaka smiles, keeping pity out of his eyes. "My son, Tetsuya, will be with you. No time for a pretty dress. But I will find something if I can."

She doesn't reply but squirms enough for the man to put her down, face carefully impassive as she puts weight on her battered feet. There are other occupants in the room. Hibari Kyoya, a few years older than she is, sits up from his bed. He's dressed in black, his curiosity dampened with the irritation of being disturbed. There's another boy, taller than the both of them. He stands with the air of someone used to accepting orders, he must be Tetsuya.

"Congratulations," Rosetta says to Kyoya after a wave of stifling silence. "You're getting married tonight."

"Ho, to you?" Kyoya replies in his own tongue, refusing to budge. He pushed her to the fountain this morning when she cursed him in Italian out of boredom. She tried to see how far he understood the language since he didn't seem to speak at all.

"Who else? Your father will not find a better deal. You should be celebrating." She tries a smile.

"I don't celebrate the demise of fools," he says back.

Hibari Kyoya, the youngest son of Hibari Ryuusei, is reported to be a vicious, cruel child, with enough intelligence to make him dangerous, which makes him worse. And she is going to marry him because she's too afraid of dying.

"Where's the bathroom?" She asks.

"Right here," Tetsuya leads her to an inconspicuous door. She's trailing blood on their pristine carpets, yet she doesn't care. She enters and shuts the door, knees weakening. Not yet, she thinks. She needs to last the entire night. She can cry in the morning.

* * *

The marriage is a simple garden affair. White chairs line the artificial grass, occupied on the left by the bride's side of the family –whoever could attend in such short notice– and on the right by the groom's men. They kidnapped a priest from the nearest monastery, dressed to hold the ceremony with a gun trained at his temple.

One of the maids picked a bundle of chamomile from the garden for her. Rosetta holds the bunch to her chest, in the same air an unarmed knight will hold a shield against enemy onslaught. She is wearing a pale dress a size larger than she is, cut around her knees and her husband to be is wrapped in a suit he wore that morning.

There are agents securing the perimeter. Snipers are nearly invisible from the safe house's roof, maintaining a Killzone. Beyond the imposing walls of the garden, she sees a peek of sun darting from the horizon. The irony is not lost to her. A new life in a gilded cage. But she's alive.

Still alive.

"You may kiss the bride," the priest says.

Kyoya shakes his head and moves away, but Rosetta is faster. She grabs his arm and digs her nails into his wrist. "You have to." She whispers with a small patient smile. "We must give them a show."

"We have said our vows," he replies in the same language to her relief, but he's frowning. "We are married."

"So it doesn't matter if you do. It's tradition."

"I don't want to," he says unflinching, but he scans the crowd and meets a few expectant faces, some looks with relief that he doesn't cooperate. He memorizes their features.

"Fine." She leans forward, meeting his eyes. "Your father's reputation is riding on this. Make it harder for him to win a portion of Italy. The maids say you're impatient to leave this country. You want to stay here for another year?"

That works.

He kisses her without grace, pressing his lips against hers and bites the corner of her mouth. It's unpleasant and stifling, not at all what she expected a kiss to be, but even at the podium, she senses the relief in the crowd. When they break apart, she can taste blood.

Maria Rosetta Santoro-Hibari wipes her lip and takes a step to the audience, the bundle of chamomile abandoned to the grass. She doubts anyone would try catching it if she threw it.

Rosetta nods at Ryuusei who quirks his lip at her.

She looks straight at her family.

"As the doña of famiglia Santoro, I give my seat to Hibari Ryuusei." She ignores the indignant noises coming from her aunties and raises her voice. "Until I am of age, I will remain as his external advisor, that no decision of his regarding the famiglia will be approved without my consent." If Ryuusei is displeased with her unexpected announcement, he does not show it. He does, however, raise a lenient eyebrow.

"If upon my death that I still do not have an heir of proper age to take over, then you all," she nods at her family. "Can do whatever you wish."

Her family has partially quieted down. Some are staring unobtrusively at Ryuusei. She has thought of this repeatedly. If somebody assassinates her, they'll risk Ryuusei's wrath. He's generous when one owes him blood, especially when one owes him a solid foothold in Italy. Ryuusei can't kill her either. He'll be wasting the opportunity.

"But of course, if I find as much as a glimpse of opposition. I will not stop the don from doing what he wishes to you. No hard feelings." She nods to her family and allows Ryuusei to take her place, making his own announcement.

Rosetta stands beside her husband, who is not even trying to listen to his father.

"An external advisor? You do realize my father can lock you up and hurt you until you agree with everything he wants," Kyoya sneers, not one to waste words. "You're not that smart, are you?"

"I have to take those risks. And besides, that's not your father's style. If it is, suicide is easy. He'll lose everything if I die."

"You think people haven't tried to kill themselves under torture? We're good at what we do. We know how to keep you alive, stuff food down your throat, force water into your veins."

Rosetta is silent for a moment, holding her tongue. "You say that, but you seem to be worried about me." There's nothing left for her. This marriage is her final gamble. She would have been dead if she hesitated.

"I do not wish to be married to a fool."

She wrinkles her nose, looking straight ahead. He's literally and figuratively looking down on her. "You'll have to take that back if I survive this, you hear me?"

Ryuusei is nearly done with his speech. He has enraged about half of her family by now. Some already left, passing through an arched doorway where Kusakabe Takenaka is inconspicuously taking notes. Rosetta remains still. Her family is not known to be an intelligent bunch.

Ryuusei beckons to her when he's done, leading her away from her husband who doesn't even acknowledge her departure. If she had known this would be the last time she'd see him in two years, she would have said something nice to him or perhaps given him an embrace, despite his prickly disposition.

"I'm sorry. I know you hate surprises," she says to Ryuusei once they've entered the safe house again. The living room is pristine as when she entered it the first time. They've promptly disposed of Cosimo's body.

"I expected something like that. You're Victor's daughter after all." He motions for her to sit. On the table, there's a tea set with the ugliest set of cups she's seen. He pours her one, although she doesn't touch it. "Don't do it again."

"I won't," she promises, trying to sound as sincere as she can. But she can see that he doesn't buy into it. "We're partners now," she adds and then inexperience catches up. She flashes him a worried grin, much to the man's delight. "Are we?"

"Yes. And now we have to work. I've sent men to gather your belongings at the estate. What do you want to do with the bodies?"

"A small ceremony should suffice. My father and his sons can be buried in the family mausoleum. His guardians, the men, and the consigliere can be cremated and disposed of."

"I'll send a team to investigate the murders." There is a pregnant pause as the man leans back to his seat. "Do you want revenge?"

"If it doesn't cost me too much," she says, pressing her lips together.

Ryuusei puts a hand on her shoulder. He sounds considering. "Do you want time to grieve?"

Rosetta stays quiet, but it doesn't last for long. Her lip trembles as she presses her palms to her face, feeling suddenly like a child. She doesn't want to cry. She cannot cry.

"Give me an hour please," she asks.

"Alright," Ryuusei finishes his own cup and stands, dusting his suit. "It was wise of you to come to me." He is sincere this time. He has suspicions of the killers' identities, but he is unwilling to entertain revenge if Rosetta wants to. He has better plans to pool his resources into. In time, perhaps, once she has earned her keep.

He twirls his cane once, about to leave when he hears a murmur.

Curious enough, he leans back. "What did you say?"

Rosetta lifts her face from her hands. Her cheeks and her eyes are damp and red and the corner of her lip is starting to bruise. "I said that remains to be seen."

Ryuusei's somber countenance cracks into mild amusement. He twirls his cane again as if in thought and grins wholeheartedly. Rosetta is struck with the legitimacy of it. "Welcome to the fold, my dear signora."

* * *

 **A Note to the Readers (updated!):** Somebody pointed out why I say Famiglia before the family name, ex: Famiglia Vongola, Famiglia Santoro. I'd change it if I haven't written a bunch already. You see in Italian, the word Famiglia goes first. I just began writing it as such and totally forgot that Akira wrote it the opposite way. (」ﾟДﾟ」(」ﾟДﾟ」(」ﾟДﾟ」


	2. The Reunion

**A Note to the Readers:** Oh wow! I was not expecting this story to get any views at all, being something written for self-indulgence. Thank you for _IceLeigh, Loveyourebornsama, bookwormlover,_ and _koldy_ for following.

I've also noticed as I was fleshing out our OC, that she is more of an anti-hero than a real heroine. I hope that doesn't bother you too much.

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE**

The Reunion

 **Two Years Later**

"I look like a girl from one of those Japanese pornographies," Rosetta says, eyeing the hemline of her skirt critically. The uniform is not that bad, per se. She's just not used to it. One, she was always home-schooled. Two, she doesn't see the point in short skirts unless one is trying for seduction.

"Your classmates will wear the same thing," Kusakabe Takenaka says patiently.

"Then we'll all look like porn stars." She twirls and frowns miserably as she catches a peek of her hemline. "Am I allowed to wear shorts?"

"As long as it's not visible, you can," Ryuusei emerges from the door of her room, fixing his tie. Takenaka bows as she inclines her head respectfully. Privacy is a luxury in the Yakuza.

"And I am, to what? Study?"

"It's a perfect exercise for your patience, and you will learn valuable lessons," Takenaka explains, nodding to himself.

"You've studied in Namimori as well?" She asks the retainer who cracks a smile her outward suspicion.

"Yes, I have."

Rosetta takes her chances. "And what valuable lessons have _you_ learned?"

Takenaka shrugs, ignoring her barb. "I've survived the longest as Hibari-san's retainer."

Rosetta purses her lips and sits on one of the plush seats. They're at an expensive hotel in central Tokyo, one that offers a wonderful view of the sprawling city. They've been staying there for a few hours at most, a short respite from the long overseas flight.

"Good for you, then." She replies offhandedly giving up.

"Thank you," Takenaka says.

"That was not a compliment, Kusakabe-san."

"I'll take it as I see it."

"Your son is also my husband's retainer, is he?" She observes, frowning. She hasn't seen Hibari Kyoya since their wedding. Any form of communication seemed impossible. Her efforts were ignored. Calls were rejected, letters sent back. But she wrote to him anyway, a letter a week in her budding Japanese. Sometimes she wrote about work, sometimes she wrote about herself, sometimes she cursed him, just to see if he'd write back.

"Speaking of sons," Rosetta cranes her head to Ryuusei who is standing by the window, "How is Hibari Kyoya?" She tries to keep her expression neutral.

"Regrettably, he has worsened over my absence," Ryuusei sighs. "But he will protect you if there is an incident. I already gave him my orders."

"I knew it," Rosetta sidles up to him and tries to observe the view, an attempt to see what he's looking at. The city folks look as small as ants from where she's standing. "You're putting me into storage."

Ryuusei doesn't react. "I am. We've been perhaps a touch too successful in your homeland. Famiglia Gesso and Carcassa are not reacting well to my excursions at Palermo. There's already a hefty sum above your head. They are arrogant, these families. It would be irritating if you die."

"I haven't been in any real danger in Italy," she says, although she sounds a tad unsure.

"Not yet. I have the resources to defend against several retaliations, even an all-out war against the Gesso, but not enough to protect myself and you at the same time. I need every loyal man on the field."

"This is because I can't fight, is it? I should not have listened to my father's words. 'You should not mop the floors if you can pay somebody to do it, you need not to fight if you can pay somebody to hit for you.' _Pah._ "

"It would have been too late to start, regardless. Women are not meant to be fighters. Namimori is our stronghold. I can't waste men on you."

She doesn't comment on his views. She's tried to sway him before, in his better moods, and was terribly punished for it.

"I've heard of this lecture already," she says, "but I'll listen to you. I'll go. But you can't make major decisions without me. You have to call me when something comes up."

Persisting to stay in Italy would be stubbornness. The Gesso is as irritating as they come and the Carcassa is an annoyingly lucky family. Not to mention the ongoing civil war the Vongola is trying to suppress. Too many fixers are out of work as result of the famiglia thinning down ranks, questioning allegiances left and right. She can run and hide all she wants, but the wolf only needs to catch her once.

Ryuusei is staring at her oddly.

"What?"

"I thought you'd make it difficult for me," he admits wearily and as if accusing, he adds: "I prepared bribes."

"Threats," she corrects, absently tracing a finger through a tiny scar on her left hand.

"Bribes," he persists.

"You think I won't listen to reason?" She whispers, sounding betrayed. "That's painful, coming from you. Kusakabe-san! The boss thinks I'm an idiot."

"Not an idiot," Ryuusei massages the bridge of his nose, but he says nothing else. He reaches to a mahogany desk and pulls out a letter from an empty drawer. It's thick, heavy, and sealed with the man's indigo flames. "Give this to my son, please."

Rosetta accepts it, her eyebrows scrunched. "You're not going to meet him? You haven't seen him in a while."

"Everything I wish to say is here," Ryuusei sounds tired.

"Nothing else?"

"Nothing. Be patient to my son, will you? Spend time with him."

"I don't think that is avoidable. We'll be living in the same roof, no?"

Ryuusei sighs. "You underestimate him. He's beginning to be a pain. He should be like his brothers. They're not as hot-headed, nor as foolish."

Rosetta blinks at him, pressing her knuckles on her mouth.

"A rotten lemon from the lemon tree?" she asks cautiously. She doesn't want to make him angry.

The man sighs once more, shaking his head, but he sounds fond. "I'm afraid I was exactly like him when I was his age."

* * *

The idea of school is terrifying.

Rosetta is now sitting in her new bedroom. It's a small space with barred windows, reminding her of a cell of all places, albeit it's prettier. The entire mansion is something out of the feudal era, built on ancient wood by men long buried under the foundation. She's not going to trick herself into thinking it's comfortable, but at least she's safe. Namimori's weather is likable too, but she's already dreading the incoming cold.

There is a bed for one, a study desk beside it and a small cabinet that doesn't even fit a fourth of her clothes, which she piles on a miniature sofa by the wall. Hibari Kyoya's bedroom is a floor above hers, no doubt far more luxurious than what she has to put up with.

When night comes, she eats dinner alone on one of the many dining rooms. The kitchen staff had thought of her and made something vaguely western. Something she would have, perhaps appreciated if her stomach isn't churning from nervousness.

"Is Kyoya-san at home?" she asks one of the servants who stopped by to ask if she wanted anything. Rosetta's Japanese is by no means perfect. But it is understandable, despite her odd accent. She needed to learn the language quickly.

The maid tries to grin at her but fails. She looks nervous, with dark hair, too many freckles, and brown eyes.

"Yes, he is."

"Can you lead me to him?" The question should be innocent enough. But the maid gives her a skittish smile. Rosetta takes a stab at the remaining slice of meat on her plate and chews on it thoughtfully.

She opts for something simple. "What's your name?"

"Rita, ma'am."

"Rita, why can't you lead me to him?" Rosetta leans forward tipping the chair off its stability.

Rita sighs, regretting to have dropped by in the first place. But like the mafia, the maids have a convoluted system of hierarchy. Fresh faces are always cast into the unknown. Later, they would hound her for details.

"He doesn't like being disturbed ma'am. He gets angry."

"I'm not unused to angry men," Rosetta's voice sounds pleasant, her smile is even brighter. "What does he do? Does he hurt people? Has he touched the maids?"

"N-no! He doesn't touch… He–" Rita says, mortified. "He is not like that. But he likes to fight."

"A violent man," Rosetta murmurs to herself. That's never a good sign. A reason her father rejected Ryuusei's offer of marriage was that she was supposed to marry another one rumored to be violent as well. An arrangement her mother made that her father swears he held on to honor her memory. Rosetta doesn't think so.

"Has he killed anyone?"

"Not that I know of, ma'am."

"Maimed people to permanent disability?"

"I'm not sure, ma'am."

"What do you think? Has he crippled men for petty reasons?"

The maid eyes her warily. "I think. Yes, ma'am."

"Bring me to him, now." Rosetta stands. Ryuusei's letter is in her jacket.

"But _ma'am._ "

Rosetta frowns as she shuffles out of the dining room, putting on her slippers. _Valuable lessons_ , she remembers as Rita tries to futilely dissuade her from seeking him. Good intentions perhaps, but misplaced.

"The sooner I understand my husband's boundaries, the easier my life would be."

"Oh! _Oh!_ " Rita gasps in surprise before she remembers her place and irons over the large smile on her face. "I knew it. The senior maids and I had a bet."

"A bet?"

"Yes! They were wondering who you were. They said I was a romantic when I told them you must be married to Hibari-san!" And Rita doesn't stop there. The dam has broken.

Rosetta grimaces, gesturing for Rita to move faster. She knows it's rude, but she cuts in when Rita doesn't seem to have plans to stop chattering household secrets. Rita doesn't even know her. What if she's exactly like her husband? She guesses she has met the most agreeable of the household servants, judging by the cold reception of her arrival.

She wants Rita to stay.

"How long have you been working here, Rita?"

"About a week, ma'am."

Rosetta hides a frown. She's correct.

"Are you happy with your job, Rita?"

"Yes, ma'am! Very much."

"Do you want to keep your job, Rita?"

Rita nods.

"Then, please, _please_ stop talking."

* * *

She doesn't recognize Kusakabe Tetsuya immediately. Perhaps it is the hair. He didn't have hair like that two years ago. It makes him look older than his father, who is not necessarily the definition of youth either. He is on door duty, a sentry to the balcony, standing as stiff and as motionless as a statue.

"New hairstylist, huh?" Rosetta remarks. She dismissed Rita before Tetsuya could see the poor maid. "I prefer the one from before."

He eyes her impassively. "I prefer this one better," he says.

She gives him an odd look. There is a quip hiding in the back of her throat. Something about a new optometrist, but she kicks it down with a forced smile as she politely requests for him to move.

"No," Tetsuya replies.

"I need to talk to my husband."

"He's indisposed, signora."

"Is he doing anything important?"

Tetsuya looks confused for a second, unused to people questioning him.

"Well? Is he?" She asks, patience thinning. "I have a letter from his father." She takes it out.

"Oh dear. I can take it out of your hands if you want," Tetsuya says, quickly. The sudden shift of his expression jars her enough that he has time to put his hands on the letter before she pulls out of his reach.

"He doesn't read his father's missives, does he?"

"Not so loud signora."

"He doesn't read anything sent to him, does he?" She asks again.

"Answer me," she presses, stifling the blooming disappointment in her chest. Why does she feel disappointed? She expected this. "I've been writing to him for two years and have yet to receive a single reply. The boss seals my letters with his flames." She takes the letter from her pocket and taps at the flame. It emits no heat. A simple burst of volatile indigo against the envelope.

The letter is snatched from her hand abruptly, taken by Kyoya himself, who has deigned to grace them with his presence. He tears the letter in half and discards it on the floor.

Rosetta makes an odd sound as she watches the papers flutter down the floor, similar to how her confidence is doing. She leans down and quickly picks the pieces.

"You never replied to me. Now I understand why," she says this as she stands, her spine straight. Kyoya has grown in the years they've been apart. He is taller and stronger in his build. His hair is a bit longer too, but his face is quite the same, an angry pair of eyes and a semi-permanent frown.

He ignores her. "Rule number one," he says as he walks off. Tetsuya follows after him like an obedient guard dog. "Do not disturb me when I don't want to be disturbed."

They enter a larger darker hallway. Moonlight shines through the large windows like iridescent pillars.

"Is there any time when you wish to be disturbed?" She pockets the letter as she advances to him, trying to keep her expression neutral.

"No," he replies.

"That's a waste. I have orders to spend time with you."

She hears Tetsuya muffle a startled laugh. Bad sign.

"I have orders to see that you do not die under my care. That doesn't mean I have to put up with you."

Rosetta pauses, watching as Kyoya saunters ahead of her, it's good that he can't see her face because pure unadulterated irritation flashes across her features. She's not as good as the adults. But she's trying. Anger and annoyance is a waste of time. She reminds herself that she _expects_ this. She expects him to be a thorn. At least he hasn't tried to hit her yet.

"This is not something we can put a front on. Why are you so adverse to spend time with me? You don't even know me." She follows him, ignoring the way he shoots a glare at her.

He doesn't reply. So she tries harder.

"We have a duty to each–"

He's fast. Incredibly fast. Rosetta doesn't even see the weapon until it's inches by her chin.

"Shut up," Kyoya snarls.

She's irritated that she flinched. She tries to calm her heartbeat as she raises her hands up. If he wanted to hit her, she would be bleeding in the floor by now.

"I have done my responsibility to your father and will continue doing so as the contract dictates. I only ask for a quarter of your time and patience."

"Get out of my sight," Kyoya says, pushing past her this time.

This makes her blood boil. She is used to talking to adults. Ryuusei dismisses her most of the time, but she knows that he still listens to her, even if it's not apparent. Probably. Perhaps. Maybe. If she's loud enough.

Kyoya has grown worse in the two years they haven't seen each other. She has a feeling she can merge all of the assholes in Takenaka's administration and wouldn't come close to Hibari Kyoya.

She blocks him again. Arming herself with what she thinks is a dazzling smile. "You're going to treat your wife like an animal? Am I a dog to you?"

Kyoya pauses, meeting her eyes. "You're used to getting things your way, are you?"

He's still holding his weapons. What they're called, she doesn't know. She tries not to look at them.

"Within reason, _I am_ ," she says honestly.

"Change your perspective. You might have gotten it easy with my father. But here, I am the king." He steps forward until their noses are inches away from each other. Rosetta doesn't move, doesn't flinch. There are a thousand questions going through her mind. She'll parse through the archive of her mind before she sleeps. "You will listen to me. You will follow my rules. You will go where I ask you to. If not, I will _kill_ you."

The terrifying part is that he sounds sincere.

Rosetta breathes in. Her brain races for the breaks, but her mouth is faster.

"Not an intelligent move businesswise–"

"You think I care what my father does in Italy?" Kyoya cuts in, taking a step closer. Rosetta takes one back instinctively. "I'm not the heir to his throne. You can drop and die and it will mean nothing to me."

Rosetta raises an eyebrow and raises the other one too for good measure. He didn't hit her then. He wouldn't hit her now. Probably. Perhaps. Maybe. "I'm sure you have genuine reasons to loathe me but your father needs his hold in Italy. The Yakuza will die out if you don't carve your crest internationally."

"I've heard this from _him_. I don't need to hear this from you," he says it with so much venom that it shocks her to a realization.

She shuts her eyes, losing her patience. "You stubborn mu–"

* * *

She shoves her clothes out of her miniature couch, sundresses, and shirts piling like laundry on the floor. Tetsuya sits out of trained politeness, quiet as she tries to put together the torn letter.

"I'm married to a wife-beating madman," she proclaims, and her words fall to indifferent ears.

"Signora, I don't think you should be moving too much. The doctor prescribed rest."

"Never mind that," she waves off his concern, a hand on the bandage above her left eye. Head wounds always bled the worse. She regrets looking for Kyoya without planning. But she doubts much would change even if she did plan her words. The man is a brick wall, a tall one and she only has her hands to climb over it. And if she slips… well. The resident doctor took one look at her, clinging against Tetsuya's arm, bleeding all over her white shirt and merely sighed. This was as a common occurrence as breathing in the household.

"Tetsuya, are you happy that I'm here?" She glances briefly at him, reading the missive.

"Signora?"

"It's a simple question, and stop calling me Signora. We're not in Naples anymore. Rosetta should be fine."

Tetsuya shuffles uncomfortably, looking around her room. He settles into staring at her empty picture frames. "I can't say I am. You've put Hibari-san in a foul mood."

"Thank you for being honest," she says without taking her eyes away from the letter.

"The both of you think I'm here to report to the boss. Like a spy," she says pursing her lips. Tetsuya doesn't budge. "Am I right?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"You liar," she peers over the papers. To Tetsuya's credit, his expression doesn't change. "You have spies all around you, one more shouldn't bother him. Why is he so angry?"

His lip quirks after she repeats the question for a second time. "It's his nature."

"He was born a narcissist who thinks the world revolves around him?"

"Be careful who you say that to," Tetsuya points out.

Rosetta shakes her head. "Worse has been said about him, by people closer to him I'm sure. It is the truth, but that doesn't make my life easier. The boss expects us to get along like a pair of lovers by the end of the semester. Don't laugh! I'm very serious! I am aware that it's a near impossibility. But I hope we could be friends at least. We're–" She clears her throat, looking away. "One day, we're expected to have children."

The silence that follows is so thick that she considers stuffing her face in her bed to scream.

"May I speak my mind?" Tetsuya asks after he finally pities her.

"Please do."

"Hibari-san may be a difficult person to negotiate with. But he's not entirely unreasonable. Perhaps you could compromise with him. An act I mean, like your marriage."

"Our marriage was not an act _,_ " Rosetta mumbles, then her face brightens up. _"Oh, y_ ou mean the kissing."

"No. It's an act, your marriage, I mean." Tetsuya says, wary. "Can you honestly say that you love him? That he loves you back?"

"Marriage isn't about love. It's a union. A partnership."

Tetsuya shakes his head with a sigh. "It's a union for people who have promised to love and cherish one another. In your case, it's for business. That was a partnership, not a marriage. Can you honestly say that you're partners right now?"

Rosetta bites her lip, a little lost. "You're right," she concedes. "I've been nothing but selfish to him. And I went and demanded his attention even if I didn't deserve it."

Tetsuya looks relieved.

"Is that what you wanted me to say?" Rosetta crosses her arms.

"My father told me about you," Tetsuya groans.

"He _warned_ me about you too. If it makes you feel better. But you are correct. We are married only by name. He doesn't owe me anything aside from protection." She feels a bit bitter saying this. Kyoya has a duty to keep. She kept her end of the bargain, she survived and worked until she fell over. "I cannot fumble my way into his friendship. I was foolish. This is why I need your help."

"What makes you think I'll help you?" Tetsuya raises his eyebrows.

 _Because I'm not smart enough to thwart the boss from completely buying the loyalties of my family with my presence beside him._ She thinks. _Because he will no doubt have the remaining Santoro eating out the palm of his hand if he plays his cards right._

"The boss might be shelving me for good. I might stay here indefinitely."

"I don't see why that's my problem."

She snaps her finger. "Pay attention will you? If I stay here for a long time, I will remember that you refused to help me." She slaps his arm. "I will be a pain in your ass."

He eyes her reluctantly. "Wait. If you knew that the boss might keep you here, why agree to stay at all? I think you could have pressured him to stay."

She doubts she can pressure Ryuusei into anything, but she doesn't correct him.

"If I stayed in Italy, I might die or I might live. If I die, then that's a loss for your family. If I live, then I'm just putting off the problems of this marriage, no, _arrangement_." She pauses, scrunching her eyebrows in thought. She looks at him up and down, like a predator searching for old wounds in its prey. He's doing the same thing too.

She continues. "But I'm weary of my life on the top. I was never meant to be the doña of Santoro. I had six brothers ahead of me. It's tiring. I named myself to be the advisor because I didn't trust the boss's word. I wanted to survive. But that's not enough, I want to live. I want to find my father's killers and I cannot do it as a prisoner of the boss or my husband."

Tetsuya is quiet for a while, unsure of what to say. It sounds like a confession. "You're telling me this because you want me to trust you."

It was the correct thing to say, judging by the smile on her face.

"Can we work together?" She prods.

"Let me think about it."

"So it's a yes, then."

"I said, let me think."

"It's a simple question. Just say yes. You won't be doing yourself any favors by refusing me," she says, annoyed.

"I said I'll fucking think ab–"

"Yes, you have! You're not polite company. You would have left my room if you weren't willing."

Tetsuya purses his lips. She's not good company either.

"I'll help you. But I get to call it quits if you piss me off," Tetsuya says.

Rosetta smiles brightly. "Of course, that is how consent works!"

Talking to Rita and now Tetsuya oddly feels like the most human thing she's done for the last two years. It is her first time talking to somebody who didn't wholly look down on her or somebody who didn't treat her warily. She played pirates with the cook's children when she was younger and played regrettable chess with the gardener's niece who lived in the villa's grounds. It was fun while it lasted, but she always knew that they only did so because of her father, if the awkward silences were any indication.

She learns that her books are under her bed, inside a school-issued bag, along with her supplies. She learns that a school week has already begun, and she's behind schedule in her homework.

The bed is cold. But it's alright. She's safe here, safer than she was in Italy.


	3. Namimori's other Criminal group

**A Note to the Readers:** *posts chapter and runs away*

Thank you, Aurora, Farfromthesun, Koduka, RaoLuciel, PJO Fangirl, aimankamal, animefreakv23, belerius, bookimp, , rikichancute and Devilz for following! This means a lot to me!

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWO**

Namimori's _other_ Criminal Group

* * *

"What –what's happening here?" Tetsuya pushes against the panicked crowd of students crammed on the stairwell of the second floor. Knowing Hibari Kyoya, it's a disaster waiting to happen. One of the students from the soccer team looks relieved when they see him.

"The new girl, she's got a gun!"

"What?" Tetsuya asks again. "A gun?"

"It's a school shooting is it?" Another one pipes in. "She pointed a gun at Gokudera-kun and started screaming in Spanish."

"I think it was Italian. Gokudera is Italian isn't he?"

"No. It was Spanish," the girl argues, confident. "You have to do something about it. You're disciplinary committee!"

"Kusakabe-san," calls the English teacher, a widowed woman wearing high heels and a grey dress. "Sawada-kun and Yamamoto-kun are still in the classroom. They–"

There was a gunshot. Deafeningly loud indoors.

Tetsuya curses. "Disperse before Hibari-san finds you!" he yells over the crowd of now screaming students. He runs to the room and slides the door open.

Rosetta points her other gun at him.

"Put the guns down," he says, raising his arms on instinct. Rosetta frowns. She's leaning by the teacher's desk, her right hand pointing a gun at Gokudera who has Sawada Tsunayoshi pinned behind him on a corner of the classroom. The two foreigners are arguing in Italian. Yamamoto Takeshi is almost by the exit. There's a hole on the floor by his feet, where dozens of dynamites are scattered in alarming piles.

"Rosetta-san, please, put the guns down. If Hibari-san finds yo–"

"You said that this school was secure. There's an assassin in the classroom!" She sneers, flushed with panic.

"Who…" Tetsuya glances at Gokudera, who's eyeing him suspiciously. "Gokudera Hayato has been our student for a while. He's–"

Gokudera screams something, most likely an insult, because Rosetta squeezes the trigger, shattering a lightbulb overhead. Tetsuya takes that opportunity to tackle her down. She doesn't fall quietly. The weapons fly out of her grip. Another one misfires, shooting a hole through the pigeonholes in the back of the room. She's cursing him the entire time, shoves her hand against his face and kicks his stomach ruthlessly as Gokudera takes that opportunity to light his dynamites.

Rosetta sees this and shoves him off in a show of surprising strength. "Get off! The table, quick!"

The teacher's desk is a thin metal construction. Tetsuya grabs the lip of it and topples it against their bodies. It cages them and takes the brunt of the explosion. Rosetta doesn't wait for his recovery. She lunges for the abandoned gun, stands and aims it at Gokudera, who is now on the floor, struggling against Yamamoto who's trying to pin him down.

She is disarmed immediately, courtesy of a tonfa slamming against her wrists. It hurts. Her lip curls, jerking her hands close to her chest.

"What are you doing?" Kyoya snarls, shoving her back with his weapon.

Rosetta nearly topples back. She knows she's going to bruise later, her wrists, her hip and the corner of her collarbones. "Gokudera Hayato is an assassin." She hisses, jerking her chin at the Italian who's glowering angrily on the floor. "I had to protect myself."

"You're fucking delusional," Gokudera yells. "You think I'm here to kill you? Fuck you! If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you already! Stupid bitch!"

"You took your weapons out!"

"Well, you fucking showed your face first! Fucking Santoro!"

 _"Quiet."_ Kyoya snarls. He looks like he's ready to snap, gripping his weapon so tight his knuckles go white from the strain. She knows that look, seen it in the boss far too many times when an operation went pear shaped.

"You," he snaps at her. Rosetta raises her hands as if in defeat. The dagger concealed on her back digs against her spine. She'll lose if he fights her, but she's going not going down without defiance.

"I thought I made it clear that you were supposed to _behave,_ " Kyoya doesn't yell, he doesn't have to.

 _Behave_ , she thinks, feeling reprimanded, gritting her teeth. "Behave!" She yells, putting her hands down. "What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to think? There's an assassin in your classroom! The same classroom I'm supposed to be in!"

"I said I'm not fucking here for you, you–"

"Call me a bitch again and you'll lose your tongue tonight!" she snarls, an empty threat, but it serves to shut the assassin's mouth. She turns to Kyoya, blood running hot, which is a mistake she'd pay for soon. She takes a step forward. "And you don't have the right to half-ass anything. You have an obligation–"

* * *

Rosetta wakes up in the school clinic. There's a bandage around her head and the taste of stale blood on her mouth. She runs a dry tongue over her lower lip, feeling a cut where the corner of her mouth is. She's quite angry that it has come to this, but she keeps it down. Anger is useless. She's not supposed to be angry; she's supposed to get even. But this was something that should be handled delicately.

Pros, she thinks. She's alive, she's not crippled, not blinded or incapacitated. She can feel her toes. There is a good possibility that Gokudera Hayato is telling the truth.

Cons, she's married to a wife-beating madman.

Pros, she has something to look forward to. Tonight, she's going to hole up in her room and bitch endlessly on the phone. Give Takenaka a reason to give her a warning before putting her in a class with a working assassin of the famiglia Marchetti, fucking Gokudera Hayato, bastard son of Benigno Marchetti and Gokudera Lavina.

Cons, she's handcuffed to the bed and still married to a wife-beating madman.

Pros, they forgot the habits she picked up traveling with her boss. There's a lock pick on the hem of her uniform.

Cons, she feels the bruises on her ribs. Fucking Tetsuya. She's also still married to a wife-beating madman.

Pros, she has escaped from their pathetic attempt at chaining her down.

Cons, Tetsuya is staring at her.

"Go away," she says, bitter. Wriggling to a sitting position.

"I carried you here," he points out as if she should be grateful.

"And you're still the last person I want to see."

"That stings," Tetsuya says lightly, uncapping the tumbler of water from her pack. She takes it and drinks it slowly. Her throat feels like a desert. When she's done, he takes the container back and dutifully places it back where it belongs.

"I should have married you instead," she says. Tetsuya shakes his head.

"You won't like me as a husband," he replies calmly. "And you shouldn't say these things."

Rosetta frowns. "Why are you being nice to me? What is this? You pity me now?"

Tetsuya cringes. "Not really. You goaded Hibari-san and you–"

"Oh, shut up. You're kissing his ass. This is why he's so rotten. A man like that needs constructive criticism." Rosetta leans forward, reaching her toes. "After you tell me about every potential fixer in Namimori, I need a list of people who has actually survived talking to my husband for more than a minute. I need to talk to them."

"You have to promise me not to goad him like that first," Tetsuya says. "Don't provoke him the next time–"

She blinks. "You're saying it's my fault that I'm in the clinic? What other excuses do you have of his behavior? A tragic backstory?"

"The chairman is the chairman for a good reason. He can't help but to be himself. Much like a tidal wave demolishes a community, the community is not the one to blame. But it wouldn't be wise for them to build their settlements in the same spot, wouldn't they?"

Rosetta is staring at him, her throat clenching. That sounded like something he repeats to himself every night. A mantra. A resignation even. What an absolute liar. She almost wants to hit herself, thinking that she somehow ran away from the boss and his dangerous mood swings. This is another one entirely.

"And the good reason would that be?"

"Peace and order," Tetsuya smiles at her as a teacher would to a student.

"Kyoya-san is a tidal wave, the society is the community dumb enough to build their houses in his path," she repeats, shoulders slumping. But the problem is… Kyoya is not a tidal wave. He is an individual and individuals don't win against the rest of society. It's a matter of simple mathematics. She knows that Tetsuya knows this as well, hidden somewhere beneath that winning expression.

She looks up at Tetsuya's keen smile and deflates further.

"I actually brought someone well-informed to talk to you. He doesn't work for us, so it's an IOU but he promises to tell you everything. I don't want another accident," he says to change the subject.

"There wouldn't have been an accident if you did your job. I asked you for information last night and you assured me that everything was 'taken care of.'"

Tetsuya doesn't apologize. But at least he looked a touch guilty.

"I was ordered not to tell you anything."

"By Kyoya-san?"

"Yes."

 _"And you followed the dumb order?"_

"That's why I took the IOU. I planned for this since last night. I didn't expect you to bring a gun to school." He frowns. "Guns actually, permanently confiscated by the committee."

"Why would he hide this from me?" She groans.

"He's not known to be good at following orders from the boss."

"Ah. The whole father-son animosity." She remembers the letters she patched up last night. Six pages of meaningless jargon about duty and responsibility and a singular sentence stating for him to do his job or _else._ That was the height of the boss' sense of humor. That was his way of saying that he was fond of the person he was writing to. She rubs her temples in frustration.

"So, this guy you owe, why doesn't he work for us?"

"Because I have a contract with the Vongola, so does Gokudera Hayato," a voice says from the door. "Ciaossu, Hibari-chan."

"Don't call me–" Rosetta is at loss for words now, because the finest wetworks specialist of the underworld walks in.

"Oh dear," she says, wide-eyed. "Oh dear," she says again, grabbing Tetsuya by the sleeve.

"It's a pleasant afternoon is it?" Reborn observes.

"Oh dear. Mister Reborn. I have not had the pleasure to meet you. I'd shake your hand, but..." She trails off, speechless.

"Kusakabe, you can leave now," Reborn tips his hat. Tetsuya stands but Rosetta shakes her head.

"He stays," she says.

"If I wanted to kill you–"

"Yes, I am aware. I would be dead by now. And Tetsuya-san is a weak and an unarmed retainer. He is as harmless as a flounder, are you not?" Rosetta gives him a winning smile.

"Ah, yes. Of course. Harmless as a flounder." Tetsuya smiles back, with more teeth than intended.

Rosetta has a feeling that Reborn is trying to resist rolling his eyes at her. The assassin flings himself atop an unoccupied stool and sits cross-legged. His infamous lizard sits atop his fedora sound asleep. There's coffee in his hand, probably better than all the watered-down sludge in Namimori she's had no choice to drink.

"Hibari-chan, what do you know about Sawada Tsunayoshi?"

* * *

Rosetta stabs a piece of tofu from her miso soup. She lifts it up and watches it split in half. She is not really in the mood to eat, rejecting Rita's call for dinner, but the maid brought her food anyway. She's by a terrace, on a comfortable cushion hastily dragged outside by the servants when they saw her sitting on the floor. There's a tea table too, with a fancy tea set, a candle, her cellphone, her dinner and the writing implements she brought from her room.

She's writing a letter to her mother.

 _Dear mom,_ she scribbles, pen flying over the page. It takes a certain skill to understand her writing. Of course she was trained when she was young to write in neater script, but the lessons never really stuck, even when they hit her over the knuckles. She remembers Ryuusei striking her hand once with his cane when he read her first report. She always typed her paperwork since.

What to write to a mother you haven't seen in eight years though.

Rosetta writes about the thrill of meeting Reborn for the first time. She writes about this mysterious Sawada Tsunayoshi she probably hasn't met yet. Secret son of the Vongola's consigliere hidden in Namimori under the protection of the Hibari group due to some Byzantine alliance made ten generations ago by the heads of the respective criminal groups, who may or may not be the next Vongola Tenth.

In normal circumstances, she shouldn't be alarmed. But the Vongola is in shambles as of present, prominent names are taking their slices of the ninth's pie now that there's no apparent successor. The Vongola is a sinking ship and the rest of Italy are watching like hungry sharks. If a succession war would occur in Namimori…. No, the boss wouldn't allow that, would he?

Rosetta, having reached a fourth of her paper gives in to baser instincts and decides to bitch about her husband and his retainer. It takes about two carefully worded sentences. She signs it with a flourish and folds the letter properly, pinching the edge as she sends the opposite end on fire.

"What are you doing?"

She yelps. The letter nearly flies off her hand, she tries to catch it but it burns her. It falls, the fire eating hungrily at the blue ink.

"You've been asking me the same questions since this morning," Rosetta raises an eyebrow at her husband who's observing her little stunt.

"And you have yet to give me an adequate response."

"I've –you've…" She leans back, unsure. She didn't expect anyone to be here, especially him. "I wrote a letter to my mom," she says honestly.

"Your mother is still alive?"

She blinks. Kyoya is actually trying to talk to her. Is this a trick to put her guard down? Well, it's not working.

"She's dead. My dad hauled her over the third-floor balcony when I was six. I think she hated us all in the end." Rosetta's mother lay crying in pain for three whole hours on the front steps before she finally drowned. Blood in her lungs. They weren't allowed to help.

"And yet you're writing to her."

"Of course, Kusakabe-san does this as well. I picked it up from him." It's not like she has friends to talk to about her problems, might as well bother her mother in the afterlife.

Kyoya is silent.

"I thought you didn't want me to disturb you. And yet you came here? What are you doing?" She throws the question back, narrowing her eyes. She wanted his company then, but now she's not so sure. She needs some time to think. Think alone.

"My father gave me a phone call about your accident this morning," he looks like he's trying not to hiss. But it's not really working. Something ugly crosses his expression for a second before he carefully smooths it out.

Disappointment nearly crosses her features. Nearly.

"I'm not going to apologize about that if you're here to squeeze one out of me," she says resolutely. Before he could react she adds: "but I am regretful that I didn't trust you enough to bring weapons to school. No guns from now on. What did the boss say?"

"One hour a day."

"An hour? A what?"

"I have orders. We have an obligation to spend an hour a day in each other's company."

She ponders for a while.

"And if I say something you don't like. You'll… what's the term? I heard one your committee men quote it in the hallways, ah, 'bite me to death?'" Whatever the hell that meant.

It's his turn to raise an eyebrow. "You're oddly perceptive."

She huffs, looking away, staring beyond the balustrade. The estate's back garden is ridiculously enormous. Manicured plants as far as the eyes could see until east where the forest constantly battle to reclaim the decorated land. She sees four visible sentries on patrol, moving like cats in the dark.

Kyoya takes this time to settle on her left with the distance of a stranger. This time no overeager maid offers a cushion for him to sit on. Tetsuya is probably guarding the exit.

She pours him tea and gingerly places it in front of him. She pours herself a cup too. The brew is far more fragrant than bitter. She doesn't like it. But maybe he will.

"We don't have to talk an hour a day. That's overkill," she says, pouring herself another. "The boss was probably pulling your leg. We can spend time for an hour today and ignore each other tomorrow and then do the same all over again. Maybe four times a week?"

"Fifty minutes left."

"You really hate me, do you?" She doesn't look at him when she says this, concentrating on her tea instead, on the ink stains around her fingers.

He picks up his cup but doesn't drink. "I have no reason to like you." He manages, and when she stares he says, accusingly: "You chose to marry me."

She pauses, regarding him openly. He looks kinder in the forgiving moonlight. She's used to hearing it from the boss, especially when he pushed her too far when she cried too much. It's her fault. She chose to marry Kyoya. As if a choice between imminent death and a faulty marriage was a difficult one. She is not hurt by that statement anymore.

"What are your honest views about your brothers?" She asks out of nowhere.

"You really want to talk?"

"Yes, I do in fact. You don't need to answer my queries if you don't wish to participate. But if you want me to walk around eggshells, you'll have to give me a clue about what's off limits."

"Is that what you did to my father too?" He sounds mocking.

"Of course, and it _didn't_ work. And then one bad evening I accidentally asked about his wife. He has these weird mood swings and I didn't know how to read him yet. Well… I was hospitalized for a month and was hell-bent on getting even. It wasn't fun for the both of us. You can always follow the boss' methods if you want."

"Two of my brothers are a pair of foolish cowards who think my father's name gives them power over people."

She sighs. He's not going to talk at all.

"I remember them." She says. "Your family visited over when I was nine. Those two were kicking my dog. Poor Marco." Rosetta doesn't know what happened to Marco after the massacre. It was a mongrel dog that snuck in from the streets, flea-bitten and unwashed. But she loved the dog and its patchy spotted coat. "I was planning to hurt them. I wanted revenge. But as I was making convoluted plans, I saw _you_."

Kyoya is now looking at her, a touch curious.

"You probably don't remember this. As I hid behind a tree, you sped out of the rose garden and attacked the taller one. They scurried off like rats to your father. For a second, I was afraid that you were to finish the job. Marco was bleeding around the mouth. Instead, you dragged Marco by his scruff to the servant's house. I followed you through the bushes and ruined my dress. My father was furious."

"And what was the point of this story?"

She breathes in and musters her confidence. "You said I chose to marry you. Indeed the boss made a proposition, but I knew when I held all the cards that I could have chosen anyone closer to the succession. But I chose you despite what the rumors said because of Marco."

Kyoya stiffened perceptively.

"You're going to call me an idiot, are you?" Rosetta sighs.

"You chose me, because of a dog?"

"I chose you because I didn't want to end up like my mother."

But now she has doubts.

Rosetta damps a tissue with tea and wipes off the remnants of her letter, folding the used up sheet on the table. She does it twice until the floor is clean. There's no need to bother the maids if she can help it.

"Do you regret it?" Kyoya asks. She gives him a strange look. She thought the conversation was over.

"Do I regret marrying you? No. Of course not. I'm alive, am I not?"

"That's not what I asked. Try again."

Rosetta shows her teeth. "Well, that's a question I'd have to answer in the future. Isn't it?"

"Tetsuya told me you said you wished to be my friend."

"I do," she says quickly.

He catches her gaze. They've never really had proper eye contact. Not in their marriage, not yesterday… She finds that his pupils are dark, as dark as his hair, surrounded by sclera that's a bright blue transitioning into gray. Beautiful and cold and angry. She wonders what kind of a man Hibari Kyoya is without his barricades. He's probably like his father.

"Stop trying."

"Oh dear," Rosetta taps her fingers against the table. "This _was_ going well."

They succumb into silence, neither willing to talk until she eventually runs out of patience.

"Why shouldn't I be friends with you?"

"I thought you were good at following orders."

"I am, only if the orders make sense," she says. She's beginning to feel annoyed, but she stifles it. He must have his reasons. Everyone does. The world revolves around reasons, even when some are too convoluted to understand.

He stands up, abandoning his untouched tea. "You're stubborn, like a mule."

She looks up at him. _"Persistence is a key trait."_

"Not when invested to a fruitless endeavor. Give up. It will make your life easier," he looks down at her.

She can't believe she's arguing this. "Not before I've even started. We're going to be friends, Kyoya-san. I'm going to make sure–" she yelps, sitting back as the tea table topples forward, courtesy of Kyoya's foot.

"Don't call me that."

She bristles, standing up, facing him. Defiance bubbling up. A skewed perception of danger might be the only good thing she's managed to take from Ryuusei's terrible lessons.

"Fine. _Your Highness._ You said last night that you're the king, so be it _._ " She says with a haughty lift of her chin, brushing her hands against her skirt. "But I'm not your servant. I'm your–" red dusts her cheeks. "I'm your wife. And–" He turns to leave, she speaks louder.

 _"And we're going to be friends whether you like it or not!"_

Kyoya shuts the door with an infuriating slam.


	4. Daily Life

**A Note to the Readers:** I always feel like I get exhausted when I reach the 4,000 word mark when I write. Well.

Thank you so much for EthaGrinndt for my first ever review! I had a heart attack when I saw that. I'm also pretty happy with how the story is going! Thank you so much for saying that the grammar is good. XD English is not my mother tongue. Thank you for Rose as well. My first Anon reviewer. Hahaha.

I've pretty much fleshed out the plot for this, because there is going to be plot. Rosetta isn't just going to hang around uselessly as things go on. She's also not going to butcher canon to her will.

I hope you like this one!

* * *

 **CHAPTER THREE**

Daily Life

* * *

It took two entire weeks for Rosetta to get used to her school routine. Thirteen days to convince her classmates she's not a terrorist. Eleven days to understand the value of studying the sciences. Nine days to comprehend mathematics. Eight days to gain Tetsuya's begrudging trust. Six days to have permanent lunch buddies. Four days for the history teacher to dislike her. And one hour to decide that she's avoiding Sawada Tsunayoshi and his gang of clowns for the rest of her life.

The school canteen is spacious, hosting six seater wooden tables with matching flimsy chairs, spaced apart and able to fit the whole school's population without it looking too crowded. On the exits she sees pairs of disciplinary committee members. Some aren't even from the school. Tetsuya informed her that they thickened security. They pulled out unhappy Yakuza from other organizations Kyoya has his fingers on.

"So," Hana Kurokawa whispers, tapping her chopsticks by her food tray. "You're really married to Hibari Kyoya?"

Rosetta bites the straw of her milk carton. She hasn't had milk in a long time.

"Yeah. Pretty much."

Kyoko, bless her, puts her hands together and smiles.

The girl was the one who approached her on her second day. The rest of her class, having good sense gave her a wide berth. Rosetta accepted her invitation for lunch and she stuck ever since.

Kyoko is a simple creature. Her personality is easily understood. Like a character from a soap opera. Kyoko is a kind, loving, albeit a little naïve girl who had the looks and the disposition of an angel. She'd likely end up with an equally charming salary man. Buy a house at a friendly suburb and raise two kids.

Hana on the other hand, narrows her eyes. She's quite the opposite of her best friend, dark hair, dark eyes and a pessimistic outlook on life.

"I've heard rumors. But isn't it illegal?"

"Our parents made a deal and we married early on."

"That young?"

Rosetta pauses and feigns shock. "Kyoya-san told me it's normal in the east. I was a foolish little Italian girl, far too in love to realize she's been roped in into a–"

"Stop it! Stop it! That accent is atrocious!" Hana says.

"Well, it is the truth."

"You're not even wearing a ring." Hana points out.

They didn't have wedding rings. The tradition flew over their heads. She remembers the priest's confusion.

"Wearing gold in school is asking it to be stolen."

"But we've only heard of you now. The other girls are heartbroken. I'd wish they'd stop bitching to me and actually grow some balls to talk to you." Hana scowls.

Rosetta chokes on her milk. "Girls actually like him?"

Kyoko laughs, covering her perfectly shaped lips with a flawlessly manicured hand. "He has a fan club. Girls dig bad boys."

Hibari Kyoya is not a bad boy, he is evil. So far, she had no progress whatsoever in her attempts to befriend him. The boss would be disappointed if he caught wind of it. She's disappointed at herself too. Day after day, she'd find more and more about the man she married. A purveyor of red flags she should call herself.

"Whatever. I'm still curious how it happened," Hana presses on. Rosetta opens her mouth to speak, but is cut off. "No, don't try and redirect the conversation," Hana warns, but she's smiling.

Hana takes her tray places it atop Rosetta's, leaning forward so she can whisper properly. "You're not royalty. I checked the internet. You're not some kind of a rich CEO's daughter either. You're mafia, are you? I saw police reports. You're part of some Sicilian group, aren't you?"

Rosetta leans in conspiratorially, eyebrows raised in an exaggerated manner, her bad accent coming back. "Oh yes. And now I'm the right hand man of Kyoya-san's father. I'm in Namimori because I'm hiding from the other clans who want me dead."

There's a second of silence before they burst out laughing.

"Holy shit," Hana says, wiping a tear. "That's fucked up. But imagine what it would be like to be real mafia. I heard they're rich as all hell."

"Like celebrity rich?" Rosetta inquires.

"Nah, like billionaire rich."

"I can't even comprehend having that much money," she lies.

"If I'm part of a real mafia group," Hana states. "I'd show Sawada Tsunayoshi what it's like to be genuine Mafioso. I'm sick and tired of their roleplaying. Vongola this, Vongola that. They watch some crime documentary and they think it's okay to pretend to be a bunch of criminals. You've noticed, have you? Those freaks."

"They're not exactly silent about it."

"Yeah well, it's annoying," Hana continues. Kyoko is completely silent during the conversation, which isn't strange. "I'd get Sawada off Kyoko's back too, if I could."

Rosetta doesn't think Hana needs to be mafia to drag Tsuna away from Kyoko, but she opts not to say anything aside from: "Poor Sawada. He's the school's laughingstock."

"He's not that bad," Kyoko says, quiet as she pokes the gelatin on her plate. "He's quite gentlemanly."

"Yeah, after you wash off nine hundred layers of stupid." Hana snorts.

Poor Sawada indeed, to carry the burden of wielding the ever rare and enigmatic sky flame. She's seen athletes, movie stars and congressmen unknowingly wield the sky flame –their cloaked advantage. That unexplained charisma. Wielders are said to be destined for greater things. People look at Sawada and see disappointment through their unknowingly biased eyes. He's an oddly unique case, the only sky flame wielder she's seen to utterly fail at being one. Perhaps he deserves the name. Perhaps not.

She's glad she isn't one.

"I need to go now," Rosetta says, tucking her bento into her backpack.

"Oh, where to?" Kyoko asks.

"Reception room. Made Kyoya-san a bento."

"How romantic!" Kyoko swoons. "Can I come?"

"You want to come?" Hana says, disbelieving. "You want to enter that deathtrap? He's going to kill you for fucking crowding."

"Don't worry. I'll come back soon," Rosetta promises, hauling her backpack up. A committee man from the main exit straightens before he takes off to follow her through the hallways. She's required to travel with a security detail now. At least one of Tetsuya's handpicked lackeys should be around her at all times. It's an unexpected nuisance, especially in the classroom. The others think it's Kyoya's protective streak. She doesn't correct that.

* * *

The committee man, Fusanosuke, knocks the reception room's ominous black door for Rosetta. He opens it as she enters and closes it and waits outside. He opens it once more when he hears her footsteps approaching and is about to close it when Rosetta yanks the knob from his hand and slams it on her own.

Bang!

"He threw it away after one look," Rosetta comments to him. She balls her fists. He's learned over the week to discern whether she wants a response or not. This time, saying anything would be lining himself for a verbal beat down.

"One, damn look," she sighs, face flushing, running a bandaged hand through her bangs. "He didn't even look me in the eye."

Fusanosuke follows her as she makes a sullen trudge to the classroom. She peeks through the door, sees the clown show of the Vongola and doesn't deign to spend time in the noise. Rosetta climbs the stairs and transfers buildings until she ends up at the library. Fusanosuke cases the area. When done, he positions himself somewhere unobtrusive, until Rosetta calls him with her fingers, asking him to sit.

"Are you married?" She asks.

"No, Hibari-san."

Rosetta's lip curls at his name usage, but he follows his orders to the smallest detail.

"Girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend. We've been dating for three years," he replies, unsure. He might lose his job if she doesn't like what he says.

"How did you court him? Flowers? Showers of affection?"

Fusanosuke looks mildly embarrassed. "We met each other at a special club and hit it off."

Rosetta sucks in an annoyed breath, groaning.

"You lucky bastard."

"Trouble in paradise?" A voice says behind her.

Fusanosuke stiffens, standing up so quickly that the chair topples behind them. The library erupts in shallow whispers, quieted by the sharp hush of the head librarian. Rosetta forces a smile. It is always good to pretend that one is at good terms with other Mafioso, no matter how irritating they are.

"Fusanosuke. Next time, some subtlety please," she admonishes him, twisting to face Gokudera Hayato. He is leaning against a table.

On her right, she feels and hears a palpable swoon from a group of women. Gokudera may have the looks of an angel, but his disposition is the opposite.

"Reborn wants to fucking see you," he says in Italian. The girls swoon once more.

The urge to say yes is strong, it's Reborn, but she easily overcomes it. "What for?"

"Don't fucking know. And you, stop acting like I'm gonna screw her over," he tells Fusanosuke who puts his hand on his holster.

"You know Italian, Fusanosuke?" She asks.

"No, Hibari-san." He pauses afterward and says, "Permission to shoot him?"

She bites back a grin. "Better not dip your pinkie where it's unwanted." She turns back to Gokudera, who looks annoyed. "If Reborn wants to see me, he can do so after class. I'm studying."

"You're doing nothing!"

"Shhh," the librarian's face is red from the strain.

"Fucking hag," Gokudera rolls his eyes. "This is fucking important."

"To you or to me?" She asks.

"To you of course," he says, irritable. "Your pride will be your downfall, Santoro."

"It's Hibari, I'm married" she corrects, running a hand through her hair. "And it's a no, go away Gokudera-san."

Gokudera flushes, gritting his teeth. "Your loss, bitch." He leaves, slamming the Library door. The Librarian chases after him, her kitten heels tapping angrily at the tiled floor.

Rosetta sticks her forehead to the tabletop, tapping her fingers against the table. Gingerly, Fusanosuke props his chair up and sits once more, eyeing her nervously every minute or two.

"What? Just say it."

"Sorry, Hibari-san. It's just… they're Vongola. They're big and you just…"

"You think it's dumb that I'm not kissing ass?"

He purses his lips, wondering if he should speak.

"Go on," Rosetta urges.

"Well, frankly, if I may put it, yes."

She frowns, counting to ten.

"The Vongola then was as imposing, as powerful and as unreachable as the sun. Now, the Vongola is burning under its own weight. I don't want to be seen near them."

"That hurts." A new voice pipes in. The chair beside Rosetta screeches back before Reborn hops atop it. Leon is ever present, a stark contrast to his dark fedora. Fusanosuke reaches for his gun, but Rosetta shakes her head.

"The truth often does," she whispers, leaning to him for privacy.

Reborn's eyes are glinting. "Spend some time with my ward."

"No."

"You won't do it for free."

"An IOU from the world's greatest hitman?" She says, feigning disinterest.

"More than that."

"What could I possibly want that–"

"Names of the Santoro killers."

Her easy smile falls. She taps the table with her fingers, observing him with a strange lizard-like stillness.

"You don't have them," she says, sounding bored, but her face reddens modestly, something a hitman wouldn't fail to notice. "Don't insult me."

"Right now you have your limbs cut off," he counters as she tries to leave. "I am your only chance for justice."

She pauses and sits back.

"I want revenge, not justice."

Something complicated crosses through Reborn's features. "Then revenge it is."

"Oh please, you're a hitman. You're not an investigator. The police were clueless. Hibari-san's people didn't have a damn lead and they scoured the damn place. Every contact, everything died that day." She taps the table for emphasis. "You have nothing."

"Ryuusei's contacts aren't my contacts. And many people owe me. It will be a long but a simple process of elimination."

Rosetta remembers her father holding her up in the sunshine. The painful crack of his belt when she lied to him the first time. She remembers her brothers, arrogant and raucous. Her servant friends. That damn mutt. She thinks of home and how the memories are no longer pleasant. She sees Fusanosuke staring at her, his brows furrowed. Concern radiates out of his posture like waves.

"Others have promised me the same thing and I've sent them away."

They're quiet as the library allows. The clock ticks above them like a countdown.

"But you have a reputation, a good one, unlike them." She says. It's not like she has plenty to choose from. The prospect of giving light to the murders has dimmed over the years. Perhaps, at the end of the day, Reborn might be of some help, no matter how small.

"What do you want me to do?" She asks.

"I want every advantage for Sawada Tsunayoshi. Every ally."

"I am his ally. I haven't exposed his existence to his opponents, have I not?"

Reborn's lip quirks but he shakes his head.

"I want you to be his teacher too."

Rosetta blinks, swallows. "A teacher? Me?"

"What is the mafia to you?"

"A family business."

"What do you think is the mafia to him?"

She tilts her head, thinking back. "A circus with you as the ringmaster. Oh, you mean to say is. Oh dear… I see. But that's not an equal exchange."

"It's not."

She shoots him an expectant look.

"You have your secrets, I have mine," he says with his eyes twinkling. It's easy to move on when he knows she won't pursue it. Not today at least.

"Only teach him. Nothing else?"

"Nothing. Everything else will be your charity."

Rosetta doesn't even pretend to think this through. She suspects that even Reborn tires of games. She clears her throat and concentrates. She's seen Sawada running around in his boxers, his head on fire twice this week. Nobody seems to comment on the flames. Clearly, most of Namimori are civilians. Those who aren't flame actives can't see flames after all.

She extends her right hand under the table, engulfed in a light shade of indigo. Reborn gives her a tired look and shakes. In his tiny palm a bud of yellow. The flames join in a murky shade of brown and gray and disappear with a small hiss.

"Did you hear that?" Fusanosuke is on alert, hand on his holster once more.

"It's nothing." She shakes off the odd crawly feeling under her skin. "Let's go back to class, Fusanosuke."

* * *

Tetsuya doesn't exactly sleep on a normal schedule. He can go on days without rest. At first he thought he was alone, but his father eventually found out and told him with a twinkle in his eye that it runs in their family. Something about sunshine in their blood. He doesn't mind the anomaly. He's far more efficient like this. He's not worried about his health either. Most of his uncles have lived beyond eighty years of age.

He leaves the study with a binder tucked under his arm. A new delinquent group from Osaka ventured into Namimori this afternoon, searching for greener pastures. His boss will want to convert them as fast as he's able. Tomorrow evening perhaps.

He ambles outside for fresh air, nodding at his fellow retainers who greet him enthusiastically. It's around four in the morning. The guards have changed shifts. Speaking of which, he needs to update their schedule. He can't have the men relaxing to a routine.

There is an arch of morning glories behind the house. He bends under it and keys in through the service entrance. There's a small cavernous hall where they stock most of their food, leading to the kitchen.

He pauses.

The kitchen lights are open.

Normally the servants would start preparing breakfast at dawn. It's still dark outside.

He puts a hand on his revolver and moves to the light, keeping his back on the wall.

He hears his father's voice, screaming in Italian.

"What kind of a woman doesn't know how to cook?"

"The kind who had servants, Kusakabe-san." Rosetta hisses sharply at her phone. "You can either help me or I'll wake Noya-san and ask her to help me instead."

His father groans. "She complained about you, used the word pathetic generously."

Tetsuya peeks over the door. Rosetta is by the stove, frying something fragrant. He sees a few implements on the countertop. There's a chopping board loaded with vegetables, bowls and a paring knife among others.

"You're the pathetic one!" She trills, having nothing else to say. "You're the one hiring childhood friends for chefs! That's why she screams at you, because she thinks you're buddies. Business should be impersonal!"

"The boss likes her Oyakodon. He's a picky eater!"

Tetsuya hears a click. The cold nozzle of a gun presses against his temple.

"Fusanosuke," he says, raising his unoccupied arm. "It's me."

"Oh." Fusanosuke blinks. He looks exhausted. "Good morning, Kusakabe-san."

"Good morning, is she–" Tetsuya peeks over the door again. Rosetta is comically wrangling her flip phone, screaming profanities at another language. "Why is she here?"

"Cooking. She's always here, boss." Fusanosuke whispers. "I don't think it's a good idea to be here though, for you, I mean. She's a bit, high-strung when and after cooking. It's not her niche."

"Is that why you're hiding here?"

"Pretty much. Did you come here for coffee?"

"Yeah. It's going to be a long day."

"The guards usually stop by too. The servants put up some flasks at the reception area, main entrance. There should be some left for you. Milk is usually gone by now though."

Tetsuya smiles wryly.

"Thanks."

* * *

Tetsuya is wrong about the conversion. Kyoya wanted to dispatch the team by mid-morning. He's in the reception room at the present. A handful of men are sitting by groups of two to cut crowding, huddled around stacks of colored prints.

"The Takanashi group is quickly rising in rank among the local gangs. So far, they've evaded police in their drug operations. Hibari-san suspects that they're here to root a new bunker near Kokuyo."

"This place is nothing but forestry," Enomoto says. He's seated by the couch, a large man, transferred from a nearby public school.

"That is exactly why they chose that spot to begin with. We estimate around forty fighters. Most are defectors from larger Yakuza. Four are ex-convicts, two are parole runaways. We even have several who are currently wanted by the local police."

"Shit, that's tough," whispers one of the new recruits.

"Shh, don't let Hibari-san hear you."

"This is nothing compared to the operation last Christmas."

"Three of you are coming with the boss and I. Higashi, Enomoto, Fujioka." Tetsuya closes his binder.

"There are five of us, versus forty," Higashi stands up. "When I signed up for this, I didn't think we'd run after perps like the fucking police."

"Higashi, be quiet." Enomoto tugs the man down by his sleeve.

"Don't touch me!" Higashi snaps, stumbling forward. "I'm not going to fight–"

Tetsuya rams his fist against Higashi's jaw. The man falls. He tumbles over the tea table, breaking an ashtray. Nobody helps. Now disoriented, he crawls back up and clenches his fists, assuming a boxing stance.

"The disciplinary committee is a privilege that can be taken from you. This is your final warning," Tetsuya says soberly.

"My old team didn't fuck with other clans trying to make money for themselves." There's blood on the man's mouth. "We didn't– "

The second blow breaks Higashi's jaw. He tumbles again, keening in pain. Tetsuya pulls tissue out of Kyoya's table and wipes his knuckles clean. "Get rid of him," he orders one of the older subordinates who immediately haul Higashi up by the arms. "Like I said–" Tetsuya fixes his tie. "–three of you will come with us, Enomoto, Fujioka, Sakamoto, to the rooftop. Now."

* * *

"Is that blood on your clothes?" Rosetta asks as she spots Tetsuya on the hallway. He sighs, normally students are too intimidated to ask.

"It's not mine."

"Evidently," Rosetta sniffs, trying not to look at his limp.

The retainer behind her salutes impeccably. He's new. Tetsuya doesn't remember the man's name, which irritates him, but he's seen him around the house often enough. He nods to the both of them. There's paperwork to be done. The Takanashi operation was a success. Most of the criminals are in police custody. Kyoya wishes to covert six of them to his fold, which is plenty considering the attitude of his boss. Fujioka and Sakamoto are in the hospital. Broken bones. But Kyoya hasn't said anything yet, which might be a good sign.

The six lucky ones are hogtied in one of the Hibari's safe houses, to be interviewed later. He needs his tools for that, requiring a trip back home. Then he needs to finish his homework.

"Where's Fusanosuke?"

"He's asleep," Rosetta is rummaging through her backpack, taking out her books, digging for something at the bottom. Tetsuya waits.

Eventually, she pulls out a bento.

"Can you give this to Kyoya-san? I stopped by this lunch. Nobody was there."

He accepts the meal with two hands. It's around one in the afternoon. She's likely on her way to P.E.

"Sure."

Later, he places the bento on Kyoya's desk. The boss is filing out police forms.

"What is that?" Kyoya pauses mid-sentence.

"Food from Roset–"

"I already ate. Throw it out."

Tetsuya knows the boss hasn't eaten yet.

"But boss–"

He is silenced with a look. Tetsuya picks up the meal with a heavy heart and throws it on the paper bin, including the box. That evening, before he locks the reception room, he unearths it from the trash and brings it to the park, feeding Rosetta's hard work to the local strays.

* * *

When Tsuna comes home he is greeted by the sight of Rosetta sitting idly in his living room floor. She's picking through a bowl of cherry tomatoes, watching television with his mother who is peeling garlic in a ceramic bowl. There are a few handwritten notes on the table with a couple of stacked folders. I-pin and Lambo are beside Nana, filling a few coloring books Rosetta brought by her visit.

"H-Hibari-san?" Tsuna questions nervously as he replaces his shoes with slippers. His body hurts all over.

"She's here to tutor you, Tsuna." Reborn stretches beside him, tired after a day of sniping his student with rubber bullets.

"Tutor? I th-thought you were– you were my tutor!"

"Different subjects mean different teachers." Rosetta appears beside him, folders and notes tucked in her arm. Her voice is low. "Good evening, Sawada-san."

"G-good eveen- uh. I mean, e-ee-vening. G-good evening, Hibari-san."

Rosetta stares. She chances a glance at Reborn who is shaking his head.

"Oh dear," she says. How he's survived this long under Reborn's tutelage, she'll find out soon enough. She puts a hand between Sawada's shoulders, guiding him up the stairs. He reluctantly follows, taking two steps up. "We're going to his room!" She announces to Nana, who tells her that dinner will be ready in an hour.

Rosetta pauses, waiting for a beat. "Fusanosuke!"

Fusanosuke exits the bathroom near the stairs, wiping his hands on his pants.

"I'm here! Sorry, I had to figure out how the flush worked." Fusanosuke pauses, raising his brows as he takes in Tsuna's increasingly pale and terrified form.

"D-d-disciplinary committee!"

"He's with me," Rosetta pushes him up, but Tsuna remains immobile, petrified. This is Iemitsu's son? She's seen sardines with more backbone. Reborn is already on the second floor, yearning for a warm bath.

She pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Sawada-san. If you don't move, I'll ask him to carry you."

"I-I can walk myself!"

She eyes him suspiciously, crossing her arms. "So? Move."

"I –uh just need to get the feeling back in my legs."

"Fusanosuke, haul him up."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Hieeeeeeeeeeeeee!"

* * *

 **A Note to the Readers:** Until next time! Drop a comment if you have suggestions or things you might want to see. I'll try and incorporate what I can.


	5. The Playing Board

**A Note to The Readers:** I love you all. I love you so much. I didn't know it would be so thrilling to find that some of you are actually reading this.

To Moonlight Phonex thank you for finding interest in this *gestures vaguely* think I write before I crash to bed. I'll try my best to keep up!

To those who freaking began following this, I offer you a new chapter!

* * *

 **CHAPTER FOUR**

The Playing Board

* * *

Tetsuya surveys the little café with a mulish frown.

"You don't approve?" Rosetta asks him, a hand on Tsuna's stiff shoulders.

"It's fine," he grumbles and asks for another table when the waitress leads them to one near the windows. They take a small inconspicuous spot behind a large vase of flourishing birds-of-paradise.

"No, it's not," Rosetta refuses to let go. "What's bothering you?"

"Few exits, too large windows… see those buildings over there? A sniper could hide on a terrace." Tetsuya takes a seat, his eyes wandering.

"Are you worried because the boss took men out of Namimori?"

Tetsuya was with her when she took the phone call the other night. The boss needed men, so they provided. Nobody was happy. Ryuusei knew that fighting a war in another country would be expensive and labor intensive. With all that relocation, Takenaka would age a decade before the year ends.

"I'm worried because you're choosing to spend time on a café. It's Saturday. We have paperwork. I have paperwork. Why can't you tutor him at the estate? We have space."

Rosetta glances at Tsuna, who pales at a certain memory. "Kyoya-san nearly killed him, remember? It's safer for Sawada-san this way."

"But it's dangerous for you."

"We could have stayed at my place," Tsuna says, trying to read the menu.

They glare at him. "Your friends are pests!" Rosetta crosses her arms. "Someone should hang Gokudera Hayato for carelessly breaking omertà. Only an idiot announces nonstop that they're mafia." At least Tetsuya shares the same sentiment. He's grown tired of Tsuna's loud friends, going so far as trading favors with the other retainers just so he could escape spending time with the rowdy bunch.

Rosetta orders tea and a small slice of sponge cake. Tetsuya orders the blackest coffee they have available and Tsuna, being Tsuna, orders the same thing Rosetta did.

"At least you didn't order milk this time. Straighten your posture. Lean forward will you," she fixes his tie to Tsuna's embarrassment. "A future mafia boss, no matter _who_ should always be impeccable. Mafioso are savage beasts, the least they can do is to look like angels."

"I don't want to be a mafia boss," Tsuna says, dejectedly. His stutter disappeared after realizing after the first week that it wasn't Rosetta's habit to pummel lessons into him like Reborn. She rolls her eyes frequently, yes, when he repeats his mistakes. There was a time when she left the room in frustration. But she wasn't the one to bend his pinky until near-breaking point.

She frowns. "This is why Reborn-san isn't here. I needed to talk to you about that. Most people–"

"Most people would jump at the opportunity to become a mafia boss. Yes, I know. Reborn told me many times. I was hoping I won't hear it from you." Tsuna admits.

"Actually," Rosetta smiles indulgently. "I was going to say, most people don't know the value of money. Reborn is an expensive man to hire. If you back out now and end up as a salaryman. You'd have to work four lifetimes just to earn half of the money they pay him."

Tsuna pales further. At least he's not screaming.

"I wish I had a choice."

Her expression tightens. She stirs sugar into Tsuna's tea. He needs it. "Many of us wish the same thing. Tetsuya-san, what would you be doing right now if your family didn't serve the boss?"

Tetsuya is not looking at them. He's counting and observing patrons coming in and out of the store. He doesn't answer at first, but when it becomes clear that she is waiting for one, he gives up. "My family was originally in the tailoring business. Maybe I'd be mopping my father's shop right now." He doesn't sound wistful.

"Not sewing clothes?" Rosetta pipes in.

"It's the job of a woman."

"Right," she looks away.

"If my great-great-great-grandmother didn't marry her husband, I'd be in Naples, spoiled and arrogant and blissfully ignorant that the Vongola would name a fourteen-year-old civilian to be their heir," she whispers to Tsuna, bitter. "If Iemitsu wasn't your father. You would be a stain to society. In the worst case scenario you'd be a Hikikomori. In the best case scenario, you'd work a low income job in some dying office. Accept a promotion in every twenty years. Die alone and drunk in a dirty apartment, wondering what went wrong."

"You don't know that," Tsuna says, flushing.

"Tell me, what would you be without this? If Reborn didn't knock into your life, who would you be?"

Tsuna looks away, trying to be angry in a way he never could. He takes a sip of his tea and grimaces at the sweetness.

"I'd be dame-Tsuna."

"Exactly, choices are for other people who are far more privileged that we are." She leans back, the conversation no longer so private. "The sooner you stop complaining and do what you can with your resources, the easier your life will become."

Tetsuya grabs her arm so quickly that she jumps, her tea nearly spilling.

"I agree," somebody pipes in.

Rosetta gives Tsuna a look that hopefully says, 'be quiet', before she relaxes and takes in the intruder. He is a teenager, like them, but possibly older. White spiky unmanageable hair and piercing indigo eyes. She tries not to focus on the mark beneath his left eye. An upturned trident, its points dragged down as if weeping.

Trident tattoo. Purple. Famiglia Gesso.

She stands, smiling brightly. She doesn't recognize him. She extends a hand, and he shakes it, tugging her an inch closer to his torso, an attempt to drag her from the comfort of her booth. It doesn't work. Hibari Ryuusei is the king of disconcerting craftsmanship. He's a child compared to the boss.

"Byakuran. Nicodemo Provenzano is my father."

Nicodemo Provenzano, don of famiglia Gesso.

"I guess I don't have to introduce myself, since you came to me," she grins this time, sweeping her hand to her companions. "My retainers."

"How do you do?" Byakuran sounds sincere as he greets them. Rosetta sits back and stomps on Tsuna's foot before he does something stupid, like reply. Byakuran is met with brooding silence. Rosetta smiles further.

"Ah, perhaps we should go somewhere private."

"Oh please." She taps the table with her nails, exhaling. "There's another unoccupied seat. Why not join us? There are three of us and one of you. They can hear whatever it is you wish to say."

Byakuran shakes his head, revealing nothing.

On his seat, with his hand concealed under the table, Tetsuya begins texting.

"Then I guess I shall be concise. In an hour, my father will meet your father-in-law and he will declare war to your family."

Rosetta raises her eyebrows, her expression carefully cultivated to be one of delight. They've been at war for a while now, to make it official means that the destruction is vast enough that the Vindice will be involved.

"How kind of you to warn me," she chirps.

"This is a bid for peace."

"And what would I do with peace?"

Byakuran continues on as if she didn't speak. "We know that the Ryuusei is using your men and your men alone to fight. Their blood fuels this war and will continue when the declaration is done. Loyal followers urged to the cliff edge. The Japanese are fond of bayonets, aren't they?"

He pauses.

Rosetta knows her face is neutral, but she knows she has her tells.

"What do you want me to do?" She asks finally.

"There's money on a van outside this coffee shop. The Gesso is generous. It's enough to live lavishly for three generations. Take it and flee. We'll assist you for years to come. We know you don't have love for your husband's family."

Rosetta digs her heel on Tetsuya's foot.

That might work. The Italian mafia follow blood above else. Many will remain with Ryuusei but larger factions will divide and war amongst themselves. Ryuusei will not have the men to fight. The Gesso will win and she will come out richer.

"This family has many contractors. Running away now doesn't ensure my longevity."

"Yes, but they aren't powerful in every country."

Her lip curls. "Why not just kill me? It's easier." It's a dumb question. She knows why. If she runs away on her own, the Gesso by record will not be involved. Attacking them without provocation will lead Ryuusei in trouble with the Vendicare. The mafia has its rules after all.

A sound comes from the man's throat. "Don't take me for a fool. There are consequences to your death. Your father-in-law isn't feared for his docility." But he doesn't sound convinced when he says this. Often times, people make the mistake of underestimating their enemies. The old are reckless and forgetful, the young are foolish and arrogant.

"Let me think about it," she digs her heel harder when Tetsuya tries to say something.

Byakuran shakes his head. "Don't patronize me, signora. I'm giving you a surefire way to escape your gilded cage. The Hibari group doesn't care for you. The rumors are true, aren't they? The husband you chose doesn't even tolerate you." Byakuran's innocent smile hurts more than if he simply sneered at her.

That stings. That actually hurts. A piece of her pride cracks away and drops like those massive icebergs in the documentaries they watch at school. Rosetta observes Tetsuya, curling her fist. There's a touch of guilt in his face. She doesn't even need to look at Tsuna to know he is sweating bullets, his palms pressed against each other as if praying for peace.

"The Gesso's don is in Italy amongst his other _legitimate_ sons." She taps the rim of her cup. There's a reason she hasn't seen Byakuran before.

"What are you talking about?"

She takes her cup and sips, tempted to throw the contents at his face.

"You know what they call me in Italy right? A rat in hiding. They call me a coward. As if there's dignity in death." She scoffs. "It must have been an embarrassment for you to, sent here to negotiate with me." Wrong, he doesn't budge. She tries another angle. "Or, did you perhaps, felt pride that your father finally had use for you?"

Bingo. Something ugly crosses his features.

"I don't negotiate with bastard sons," she sneers, placing her cup down.

"Why do you want this war?" he asks quickly. "The Hibari group already has a claim on Italy. Why go further? Why risk the lives of your men, people loyal to you?"

"You can't answer that on your own?" She questions back. "This is why you are here, dealing with me and not there with your father talking to the boss. The mafia is a business. We've tried to negotiate with Nicodemo far too many times and he has turned down our offers for compromise. If he wants war, we will hand it to him on a silver plate."

Foolish notions of loyalty will get you killed, she thinks. Her men aren't loyal because they love her and she loves them back. They are loyal because the money flows easy. They are loyal because they entered the world with their eyes wide open, ready to pull a trigger to fatten their wallets and feed their families. They are loyal because Ryuusei will kill them if they leave without warning.

"You're doing this for money?"

"Congratulations!" Rosetta bursts, angry. Some of the patrons pause and watch their display. A waiter shoots them a dirty look.

Byakuran goes silent. When he looks at her, she sees pity in his eyes.

"You will remember that I offered you peace."

Rosetta scoffs. "Peace? That was not peace. This was an insult. Now please, leave. You've ruined our morning well enough."

Byakuran doesn't stalk out in anger. He walks away with his pride intact, elegant. But she sees the tension in his shoulders.

She pinches the bridge of her nose.

"We have about thirty seconds before his men kill either one of you," Rosetta whispers harshly to the both of her companions, standing up. "He will not touch a hair in my head. But he'd want revenge."

"Why did you provoke him?" Tetsuya berates her as he pulls Tsuna to his feet. Rosetta is scouting the area, whispering something under her breath.

"I'm going to reject him either way. He's going to kill you either way. The Gesso are filthy animals. This is their way. At least this time, we know he's doing it _now_ rather than later. We're prepared for it. Sawada-san, this way." She pushes Tsuna hurriedly beyond the café's counter, ignoring the protests of the employees.

"Are we? Are we prepared?" Tsuna questions. She ignores him, looking over the kitchen doors.

"Tetsuya-san, evacuate the civilians," she says, shoving Tsuna into the kitchen.

"Evacuate?"

"Get them out now! Do you want casualties?"

"You better know what you're doing," he growls, bringing out a gun from a concealed holster. He shoots the ceiling twice, gunshots nearly deafening in the small space. "This is a robbery. Everybody get out!"

Inside the kitchen, Rosetta brings out her own gun. "You three, take off your clothes," she orders the terrified kitchen staff. When they don't move, she shoots the wall above the one that looks like the manager. They remove their aprons, their pants and their shoes. She asks Tsuna to do the same thing and follows suit.

She switches clothes with the civilians, her yellow sundress into a black-and-white uniform. Tsuna strips quickly, changing his tie and slacks into an ill-fitting shirt and jeans.

"Don't cry," Rosetta assures one of the weeping staff as she plucks the man's spectacles from his face. "Nothing bad will happen to you."

Tetsuya bursts in. "They're all out, what now?"

"Here," Tsuna hands him a large button up. Tetsuya takes the hint and swiftly changes his clothes.

"Are the police coming?" She asks.

"Pretty much. Now we're trapped."

"We're not. Tetsuya, let them go," she orders to the man's surprise. He opens the kitchen door and urges the staff to run out. Two of them are crying. He drags an upturned chair from a nearby countertop and jams it under the handle, sealing the double doors.

"Here," she throws Tsuna her spare gun, who fumbles with it in panic.

"I've never used a gun," he says, holding it awkwardly as Rosetta rounds to the corner of the kitchen. She steps back and kicks a metal panel near the storage cabinets. She does it a few more times, giving a frustrated growl when it doesn't budge.

Tetsuya moves in to help her, taking her place.

"Give it," she says to Tsuna, taking the 9mm pistol. "This is the safety. This is how you load. You point and you shoot. It's easy. Even Tetsuya manages to do it."

"I- I don't think."

There is a loud crash, like thunder, leaving a ringing emptiness. Tetsuya's strength breaks through the metal. The frame of the trash chute falls into pieces, without it, you can easily fit a man through.

"Thank god for sanitation," Tetsuya mutters, looking down. He sees the outline of a rubbish bin, filled with eggshells and ground coffee. "Rosetta-san, you go fi–"

Rosetta jumps in, feet first, and lands painfully on the refuse. She flips to her stomach, props on her elbows and rolls off, slamming into the cement on her shaking knees. The garbage chute leads to a fenced alleyway, sandwiched between the café and the commercial building beside it. They can't see the street from where they are. The café's owner boarded the fence for esthetics. This buys them some time.

She can hear sirens in the distance.

Tsuna and Tetsuya fall in quick successions. Tsuna lands face first to a bag of eggshells, cutting him in places. Rosetta keeps low, crouching as she peeks through the fence.

"Let me see," Tetsuya pushes her off. He's silent for a moment, before he's cursing. Rosetta takes that break to wipe Tsuna's face with a handkerchief she found on her trousers.

"Are you sure they're out to kill us?" Tsuna asks as she presses the wound on his temple. "I don't see–"

Tetsuya tackles them both. They slam painfully on the cement as the world explodes. Fire shatters the windows above, showering the three with shards of hot glass. Tsuna whimpers beside her. She hears a girl screaming and nearly bites her tongue when she realizes that it's her.

"Fuck," Tetsuya is on all fours, above the two. There's blood on his skin. " _Fuck._ There were civilians there!"

She looks up and grits her teeth. Grenade launchers? Fuck. Byakuran wanted to _kill_ her. She was arrogant. She thought… she actually thought she was safe. Anger courses through her. The fact that they smuggled heavy weaponry in the middle of Namimori after that insulting bid for truce meant that Nicodemo planned to kill her whether or not she accepted. They'd actually risk everything to hold their position in Italy.

Somehow, surrounded by glass and burning debris, it makes sense. Nicodemo is old and sickly. He is stuck to a machine like those rich dying grandfathers in the soaps Takenaka watches in his spare time. And his heirs are disgusting spoiled beasts. Knowing this, he would make sure to keep his legacy going. If that means a war with Ryuusei to ensure his full hold in Italy, he'd do it. His heirs will be swallowed by the other mafia clans if they didn't have territories to back them up.

"Hibari, Hibari-san," Tsuna calls her as her hearing comes back. He is clutching his gun. It's not a good look on him.

 _"What?"_ She snarls without meaning to. She can taste blood in her mouth. Tsuna is kneeling beside her, face contorted with worry. "You weren't responding," he says patiently. There are perhaps a million shards of glass in his hair. It glitters when he moves.

She feels bad to have dragged him into this.

Beside the garbage chute, she sees Tetsuya, lifting the lid of a manhole.

"The Namimori sewage system, built before our fathers were even born," he explains to them, kneeling down. Beneath his feet is a large crisscrossing labyrinth of tunnels, some filled with water, others dry. A main pipeline can hold up to seven men abreast, smaller ones can fit four.

Tetsuya hauls her down first, then Tsuna who doesn't complain about the stench like she did. He enters last, closing the lid just in time they to hear footsteps aboveground.

* * *

The gardener hoses the three of them down, trying to politely cover his nose and mouth with a towel. Rita, the maid, runs inside the house to fetch new clothes.

Rosetta doesn't even dry herself when she takes her phone and dials the boss.

Takenaka answers it.

"My son relayed a few messages. I presume you're all in one piece," he says once she's done her perfunctory greetings.

"Nicodemo tried to kill me," she hisses. "He wants a damn war–"

"We know," Takenaka says patiently, which does nothing to alleviate her mood.

Rosetta takes a breath in. The sun above them is annoyingly bright. "Why am I not talking to the boss? Where is he?"

"I was going to talk about that. Hibari-san is taking a phone call from Kuniyoshi's retainers. Can you please wait?"

Hibari Ryuusei has four sons. His heir is Hibari Mutsuo, the eldest. She's met him several times, an amiable man who smiles with everything but his eyes. And then there are his twins, Hibari Kuniyoshi and Hibari Kunishige. Dog kickers. She's met them twice and didn't change her opinions of them. Ryuusei, to everyone's surprise, remarried after his first wife went missing and had Kyoya, his last.

"Kuniyoshi?"

"Yes, Rosetta, excuse me for a moment," Takenaka covers his phone with a hand, speaking in rapid muffled Mandarin. Then there was a long silence. Something crashes over the phone, like a grenade over a glass factory. Then an angry scream that chills her to the bone.

"Kusakabe-san, what's wrong?" She asks, sounding young and terrified.

"You're in the house, right?" Takenaka asks.

"Yes, we are in the garden."

"Get inside and stay with my son. Don't leave, not until I say so. Hibari Kuniyoshi is dead."

* * *

"You're crowding," Kyoya's face is dark with anger, he's clutching his tonfas, white knuckled. There is blood on his clothes.

Rosetta puts her phone down before he could say anything else. "It's unavoidable. Sawada-san was seen with us when Byakuran attacked. He can't leave the manor just yet," she says. When Kyoya doesn't reply, she realizes her mistake and repeats it in Japanese.

"I understood the first time," he says. "What I don't understand, is why _he's_ here."

She follows his angry gaze and sees Yamamoto, who doesn't seem perturbed at all that Kyoya's attention is on him.

"He's here because Gokudera is blacklisted. I don't want assassins in your house, allies or not. Yamamoto-san is a civilian, so I called him."

"For what?" Kyoya snaps.

"Emotional support," She says with the universal cadence of frustration. "They used grenade launchers! Sawada is a civilian."

"I'm honestly fine," Tsuna pipes in weakly. He's sitting by a crescent of dark green couches, squeezed in the middle of Yamamoto who was trying to tell him a story about baseball practice and Reborn who's drinking his chai. Yamamoto has the enviable habit of remaining nonchalant about everything. The arcobaleno watches them with amusement.

"He's a Mafioso," Kyoya tells her. "I want them out of here when the ban lifts." He gestures to her. "Come with me, now."

They don't end up at the terrace aslike she thought. Snipers and all perhaps. She follows him to a part of the house she hasn't explored yet, ancient pillars of wood loom over the pair, remnants of the time where builders built monuments with only hammers and ingenuity. There's a barely furnished study with a great view of the gardens. Lining the walls are untouched books with stitched spines, none in English.

Kyoya pulls out a bracelet from a drawer and throws it at her.

Rosetta nearly doesn't catch it.

"Wear that," he orders.

It's a black leather thing with a tiny pendant on the end, a silver bird. She flips the pendant and finsd a gaudy tracker almost immediately.

"A tracker?" She sounds almost amused.

"My father won't stop complaining," he says nonchalantly, looking away from her. "Your presence here has been nothing but a nuisance."

Oh, Rosetta gives him a smile, lips pulling back to show teeth. She hopes it comes less as a snarl. She can't believe she feels disappointment at his response. Did she expect him to care for her when he still ignores her every time they meet?

She slides the bracelet around her wrists, it fits perfectly.

"I'm sorry about your brother," she says, trying to sound sincere.

"You're dismissed."

Kyoya leans to his desk, crosses his arms, waits for her to leave.

Perhaps it's the loss of adrenaline. Perhaps it's the thought that if she made a wrong move at the café, so many people would have burned to death. She kept on replaying the scenes that happened this morning. If she was a minute late, Kyoya would be left with a pile of bones. His only friend in the world, Tetsuya, along with his wife, dead. Forever. This poor angry man would be alone. He would have lost everything.

"So, don't really care, do you?" She doesn't snarl, but she's quite near it. "Not about your brother, me, or Tetsuya-san."

"That's none of your business," Kyoya says. "Go somewhere else where you're wanted."

Somehow, Byakuran's singular taunt etches to her mind. _'The husband you chose doesn't even tolerate you.'_ Is that what they say about her? A rat in hiding. A rejected wife. It never mattered then. It shouldn't matter now.

She opens her mouth to curse him, but something in her throat drops to her stomach.

"Cat got your tongue?" Kyoya asks, smug. This happens every time. She can talk about school or Italy, anecdotes, philosophy, her old piano lessons before Ryuusei broke her finger bones. She can talk endlessly in the hours he tolerates with her. But it doesn't matter, doesn't it?

She looks up at him, eyes blurry, and sees his expression morph into something incomprehensible.

"What did I do to-" She manages to croak before she gives up, scrubbing her eyes with her borrowed long sleeve.

"Fuck you," she says instead. Her chest stings the way a wound does and she hates it. She doesn't even love him. But she feels rejected anyway. She wishes she is an adult. Maybe an adult knows how to handle emotions better instead of bottling it up. If she is older and far more experienced…

She crashes into Tetsuya on the way out and ignores him when he calls her, feeling lonely and angry and _homesick._ Homesick for where? Her childhood home is a pile of rubble. The boss' safe house in Italy is as restricting and as comfortable as a jail cell and… She opens the door to her room, sees the barred windows and cries openly.

* * *

The funeral ignored traditions. Instead of cremation, Ryuusei opted for burial. The body had to be flown from outside of Japan. There isn't much of a body either. They found little to be buried, a few scraps of clothes, bones and ashes. Hibari Kuniyoshi didn't die quickly.

"A father shouldn't have to bury his son," Ryuusei is wearing black as he watches the coffin being lowered. To his right stands his firstborn. Mutsuo is five inches taller than his father, but they looked nearly the same, besides Mutsuo stands Rosetta who says nothing the entire service.

Behind them, there is a chorus of sobbing women.

"I don't remember Kuniyoshi having many admirers," Ryuusei says mildly and nods to Takenaka, who turns to quiet the women down. Rosetta doesn't want to turn around. Takenaka can be pretty violent. But why would anybody cry for someone like Kuniyoshi in the first place? People should be celebrating his death.

"Where are my other sons?"

"Kunishige couldn't make it, father. He is stricken with grief," Mutsuo says solemnly, he is wearing a suit, unlike his father and Rosetta, who is wearing something traditional.

"Hm. I'll teach him what grief is. Beat some manners into him, will you?"

"Yes, father."

"I'm serious," Ryuusei clenches his fist around his cane. "I want him crawling to me for an apology tomorrow."

"Yes, father," Mutsuo says without pause.

The funeral ends quickly, dispassionate family members disperse back into their bases after their duty is done.

"And you, where is your husband?" Ryuusei asks her later, when they're at home, sipping tea by the sunroom. It's bright where they are, native trees seemingly leaning against the wide windows. The walled garden is visible here, the trickle of a manmade stream pleasant to the ears. The effect is ruined by Ryuusei's bodyguards, dark and looming against the white walls.

"Avoiding you. He was at the funeral." Rosetta recognizes the ugly tea set on the table. Ryuusei seems to bring it with him whenever he goes.

"Yes, yes. I saw him," Ryuusei leans back. He taps the floor with his cane. "I don't suppose you've beaten sense to my youngest?"

She chokes on her tea. The boss sighs at her display and hands her a towel which she uses to wipe her face clean. She doesn't want to answer him at first, but soon enough it becomes apparent that he is waiting for a response.

"I don't think I can beat anything into him," she says lightheartedly.

"Like father like son, I suppose. Your dilemma reminds me of myself when I was at your age, courting my first wife."

She blinks but doesn't say anything.

"You're not curious?"

Rosetta shoots him a wry look.

"Not curious at all?" He hums.

"I'm sorry, Hibari-san."

"At least you learn when punished," he sighs loudly, taking a resigned sip of tea, fingers itching for any sort of punishment. "Mutsuo here needed to visit the hospital four times before he stopped asking." Ryuusei pats Mutsuo's knee. The heir rolls his eyes.

"How long will you be staying?" She asks.

"In a few days." He frowns at her, eyeing the bandages around her limbs. Then, like a jeweler, he takes her hand and inspects the tiny bandaids on her fingers, not even trying to conceal his amused humming.

"I heard that Byakuran wanted peace." He puts her hand down.

"War would have been declared whether I agreed or not. The fact that he showed up with explosives meant that he wanted to kill me anyway." She says, finishing her cup, readying to leave as soon as the conversation ends. A maid, she recognizes Rita, sweeps in quickly to refill her tea to her displeasure. "What was your meeting with Nicodemo about?"

"I tried to bid for a permanent truce," Ryuusei admits.

"A permanent truce? The Gesso is a pack of two-faced mongrels. You shouldn't have tried." Mutsuo sniffs. In this light, he looks very similar to Kyoya. "Contracts mean nothing to them in the long run."

"And we're not?"

Mutsuo's brows furrow. "And we're not what?"

"Two-faced mongrels?" Ryuusei curls and uncurls his fingers around his cane. "Do you think the men who built our empire from the ground up succeeded because they were law-abiding citizens? Did I send you to study so you could embarrass yourself to me?"

Red sears Mutsuo's face. "I'm sorry, father."

"And now you apologize too quickly. If you're going to pick a habit from my external-advisor, pick a good one."

Rosetta doesn't flinch.

"Nicodemo played me for a fool," Ryuusei sighs. "I spoil my children too much. Kuniyoshi wouldn't have died if he was half as strong as Kyoya."

"We don't know that," Mutsuo says. "He could have been outnumbered." Kuniyoshi was truly outnumbered. They picked him up on the city and dumped his charred corpse on a lake twenty miles from when he was last seen. The bodies of his retainers were shot so many times that a news writer described them akin to honeycomb. The surviving bodyguards and the news writer were disposed by Takenaka on a similar fashion.

Ryuusei raises his eyebrows. "If Kyoya is outnumbered he'd simply–"

"Father, please. I know Kuniyoshi wasn't your favorite, but you shouldn't speak ill of the dea–"

"I can talk about him however I want."

"Just because you're his–"

"He was my son!" Ryuusei bellows, his cane clatters on the floor. Rosetta and Mutsuo look away like a pair of cowards, bowed by the boss' sudden wrath. When Ryuusei continues, his voice is low and rough. But in the deafening silence, it's loud enough.

"I don't love him, yes. I don't care for him, _yes_. But he was _mine._ " Ryuusei shuts his eyes, placing a pale trembling hand over his face. "Nicodemo wants to teach me grief. It's only fitting that I teach him a lesson too."

* * *

 **A Note to The Readers:** Well. I officially destroyed canon (As if I didn't sledgehammer it at the prologue). I wasn't even intending this story to go this way. I just sat in front of my laptop and the words started coming and flowing and before I knew it I was jotting key elements of the entire plot on my handydandy notebook. This story will include the Mukuro arc and the Varia Arc, which shouldn't take long because Mukuro is pretty much right around the corner.

I also didn't expect Tsuna to appear so much but I can't help myself. XD

This chapter was also supposed to be longer, but it will be too long if I don't cut it in half. The second half is under construction too, since I pretty much changed my mind on how the story should go.

In terms of romance development, I guess this is quite slow? I apologize for you all unsatisfied readers. Kyoya is pretty much this immovable brick wall. There will be catharsis soon enough and a good explanation for everything.

Thank you so much for reading this! I appreciate it! If you have any comments or suggestions, please leave a review or a message!


	6. A Family Dinner

**A Note to The Readers:** I actually really enjoyed writing this, in a sense that Kusakabe and Tsuna's characters are growing to me.

Thank you so very much for: Aines445 for that lovely review she left. Bruh, you made me realize things that I have not realized myself. That was a wonderful gift.

Thank you as well for Devil'sBlade who left me a wonderful smile.

For the Anons, I tip my hat for all of you.

This is my longest chapter yet!

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIVE**

A Family Dinner

* * *

"Yo, how are you?" Rosetta pops her head into Tsuna's room. Tsuna is on the floor, crouching over a stack of homework, grateful for her interruption. The boy's room is just beyond the hallway of hers with newly painted white walls and impersonal furniture. He has a bed that is too large for one. There's an improvised hammock above his cabinet, made from a stolen curtain in the hallway. Reborn is asleep on the hammock, or feigning sleep. She doesn't care.

"How much longer do I have to stay here?" Tsuna asks her. Rumors have been circling around the school when they saw Tsuna leaving the same vehicle she rides to school every day. Made even worse by Rosetta's persistent silence when asked. Gokudera is fuming with jealousy, the least happy with the arrangement, being unable to visit his precious Tsuna.

"Maybe another few days, a week, maybe forever at the rate the boss is going. He wants to kill Nicodemo's sons." The announcement hasn't been a surprise. Ryuusei is known to hold grudges.

Reborn shifts in his sleep.

"That-that means Byakuran will…"

"He will die if he shows his face to us," she sniffs. "Look, I'm sorry I dragged you into this. I don't like this too. If you have a grudge, the worst thing to do about it is to take the Gesso's side."

"No –I don't. I'm not taking anyone's side. I just don't want anyone to die," Tsuna says.

Rosetta blinks, incredulous. "He… Byakuran almost killed us. He almost killed _you_."

"Yes, but I still don't want him to die. This war isn't his fault. He is just dragged into this, just like you."

She stares at him, thrown silent from the honesty of his tone. She runs a hand through her hair, praying for patience. "Whatever. Just don't say that to the boss' face. He's only allowing you to stay because your father said so." To her disappointment, Tsuna doesn't take the bait and ask about Iemitsu's whereabouts.

"But, Hibari-san–"

"No," she shakes her head. "Sawada-san, aside from Reborn, I am your only ally in this house," she hisses. "Don't ruin it by preaching virtues I cannot afford to pay, no, virtues _we_ cannot afford to pay. You are not a god to decide who earns your amnesty."

Tsuna sighs in defeat. She feels a stab of guilt when she sees the bags under his eyes, but she's not faring any better either. Ryuusei's been working her like a slave-driver.

"Okay," Tsuna says, though he doesn't sound convinced.

"Now, come, have dinner with us."

Tsuna lets out a choking sound. He ran into Kyoya at the hallways a night ago and hasn't left his room to explore the house since, not even to eat. The maids have been kind enough to bring him food. It's a ticking bomb, his voluntary isolation. He can practically hear Reborn churning out plans under that fedora.

"I can eat here."

"The boss wants to see you. He's leaving tonight," Rosetta sighs. "Struggling will make it worse, Sawada-san."

"No!" Tsuna grips his table, unwilling to let go. As if that will help him. She can ask Fusanosuke to carry him again, but the boss will be put off by its indignity. "I don't want to!" He nearly squeals. Rosetta kicks his bedroom door shut, curbing the sound of his voice from travelling all the way to the basement, saving Tsuna from the household's terrifyingly efficient rumor mill.

"You will represent the Vongola tonight," she says, sitting on his bed, tired and hungry from working all day.

"Why can't Reborn do it?"

She scoffs. "Because he's been doing it for you since Monday!"

Reborn rolls in his hammock. Their only warning is a flash of light –transforming lizard– and now he is armed, pointing a gun at his student.

"No, no, no, no." Rosetta drops to the floor and seizes a flailing Tsuna by his shoulders, away from the muzzle. She stares at Reborn who glares back. "No dying-will bullet please, the household is seconds away from forming a coup d'état after his yesterday's skirmish with Kyoya-san."

The sunroom is still quarantined after Reborn shot Tsuna, something about Tsuna serenading Kyoko with his dying-will. Kyoya was unfortunately on his way out when he saw Tsuna screaming and promptly decided to let out some steam. The windows were shattered, the head gardener's precious begonias stomped upon and according to Rita, there was fire.

"Dame-Tsuna will be an embarrassment if he doesn't go in with a bang," Reborn explains patiently.

"Nobody needs to go in with a bang!" She argues, pushing the muzzle away. Damn Vongola traditions! Reborn recoils when she touches him and nearly whacks her over her head. Leon transfers back into his four legged self.

"He will be an embarrassment to his famiglia," Reborn shakes his head.

"That is why he will wear a proper suit, and smile and _not talk,_ " Rosetta pinches Tsuna's arm when he tries to crab walk away from them.

 _"Hieeeeeeeee."_

* * *

"Was there something you needed?" Rosetta sounds innocent when she asks this. She's at the hallway, trying to align Tsuna's collar.

Kyoya observes her for a second more. He's wearing a black button up, slacks and a deep purple tie. Dressed up for dinner. God forbid the family did anything without a touch of drama. She might think of him handsome if she isn't still a touch furious at him and a lot embarrassed of the way she ran off with tears in her eyes. Her grandmother would have rolled in her grave at the sight of that. Tetsuya is standing behind him, dressed impeccably as he is every day, his collar as stiff as his expression.

"The herbivore is joining dinner too," Kyoya stares at Tsuna, who swallows.

"Stop looking like prey," Reborn admonishes from his spot on the windowsill.

Rosetta folds down Tsuna's collar and lifts her chin at Kyoya, who raises an eyebrow.

"You never join dinner, what's the occasion?" She asks him, wary.

"This is my house, I do as I please."

"We're crowding like a bunch of freezing puppies. The boss ordered you, didn't he?"

Kyoya inclines his head to the right. "What if he did?"

Rosetta lowers her voice, staring fixedly at his face. "Then we have to at least act civil to one another. The boss does nothing without reason. This is an assessment."

Kyoya leans back with a small pout. A pout, not a snarl. That's positive. Perhaps he woke up on the right side of the bed this morning.

"That's not my problem," he says.

"It's definitely yours if you want to stay on his good side. He's in a foul mood, wrapped up in this reven…" Rosetta trails off, eyes widening in panic. That's all the warning Kyoya gets before she's smiling sweetly at him, batting her lashes in a way that reeks innocence and sheer adoration. She actually looks her age this way, fourteen and a half, without a care in the world. "You look good," she tells him honestly, hand slowly, tentatively reaching to his tie.

He's about to flinch away when his father appears by his elbow. Ryuusei stares at them, surprise chasing away his dark mood, humming approvingly.

"I see you two are getting along," Ryuusei grins.

Rosetta makes a show of fixing Kyoya's tie, careful not to touch his chest.

"Of course, boss." She grins. Then she greets Takenaka and Mutsuo who smiles thinly at her. Kunishige is at the back, supported by his retainers. He's leaning heavily on a crutch. He greets her back dispassionately.

"I thought I told you to call me Papa during downtime," Ryuusei shakes his head, placing a cold hand on her shoulder. Rosetta stiffens, sucking air to her lungs. She doesn't know why she bothered. False emotions doesn't work on Ryuusei. The boss leans in to whisper in her ear as she looks up at Kyoya, trying not to beg with her eyes. "I also thought I told you to stop lying," he sighs, sounds mournful.

She clenches her teeth and shuts her eyes, waiting for the incoming punch.

It doesn't happen. She exhales. Ryuusei pats her head, fixing her a sad smile before his fist connects to her diaphragm. Rosetta is on the floor before she registers the agony, clutching at her stomach, breathing in shallow breaths. The pain is dizzying, burning hot white under her skin. Someone kneels beside her with a startled gasp, a hand on her lower back.

"Why –how…" Tsuna mumbles numbly. She clutches desperately at his arm, willing him to shut up. She coughs, swallowing blood. She thinks she accidentally bit her tongue.

"She needed to learn a lesson. Rosetta, dear, if you wanted to lie, you could have at least used your illusions. You're good at that, aren't you?" Ryuusei throws a handkerchief at her when he sees blood dripping from her mouth. "And I thought I told you last time to clench your teeth."

"I did," she manages, humiliated, grabbing the handkerchief and wiping her mouth with it, smearing her lipstick. She's still on the floor.

Tsuna's face is pale. He keeps on looking at her and the boss. He's trembling like a leaf, eyes wide with something that's quite the opposite of fear. "You can't just _hit_ someone because of–"

"Sawada-san," she croaks, digging her nails to his flesh.

"Because of–"

"Sawada-san, shut up!"

Ryuusei smiles indulgently at Tsuna as he steps into the boy's personal space. "Go on, boy. I remember how it was when I was young. You're trying to teach me something, are you not?"

Rosetta hauls herself to a kneeling position, readying to slap or punch or _do anything_ for Tsuna to be quiet. But Reborn beats her to it. Leon transforms into a mallet in a flash of disorienting light and slams on the back of Tsuna's head. Tsuna keels over with a pained whine, prostrate on Ryuusei's feet.

"My student is foolish and stupid," Reborn says. His every word a stab to Tsuna's rapidly beating heart. "He has still much to learn. I ask for your forgiveness."

"Better teach him well," Ryuusei sniffs. "I doubt you will always be present to save him. Come. Dinner is waiting."

Reborn takes one long look at Tsuna before he follows Ryuusei. Kunishige ambles behind his father quietly, along with the heir as Takenaka trails behind them, talking animatedly to his son who keeps on looking back.

Tsuna is still shaking. When the pain is finally bearable, she puts a hand on the back of his neck.

She runs her fingers on the back of his head as if soothing.

"Shh, it's all right. It's okay," she says awkwardly, almost to herself more than to Tsuna. She's never great at comforting people. Being the person to demand one of others rather than give.

"I'm not going to be like him," Tsuna whispers.

"No," Kyoya says. They flinch, the moment broken. "You're not." Kyoya is staring at his father's retreating back, close to the way a caged wolf watches live prey. He's clenching his fists, his eyes wide and dark and livid.

She doesn't get the chance to say anything because a maid swerves to help her stand and another, Rita, brings Tsuna to his feet. "Signora," the maid says, gingerly peeling the bloody handkerchief from Rosetta's hand. "It's best if you don't keep Hibari-san waiting."

"Yeah," Rosetta agrees. "It's best not." But she doesn't make a move.

"Signora," the maid tries again. "You shouldn't dawdle–"

"Don't assume I can't think for myself. Thank you." Rosetta says, irritated because she still hasn't shaken off the embarrassment from earlier. She used to bounce back so easily. Perhaps she is not accustomed to an audience when Ryuusei assumes the role of a teacher. The maid nods, but doesn't apologize and takes leave, heading for the dining room.

She looks at Tsuna, who's staring intently at the floor. Rita is attached to him, her face pinched with tenacity.

"Sawada-san. You can stay in your room now. The boss specifically said he wanted to see you, not have dinner. I didn't want to piss him off earlier by assuming, but, now, honestly, I don't give a shit." Rosetta wipes her lip with the back of her hand, still tasting blood as she waves him off.

"I'm still going," Tsuna says to everyone's surprise.

"You're sure?" She asks. "You're actually sure."

"He might hurt you again."

Rosetta grins at him.

"Okay, fine. Same plan. Don't say anything if you can. Reborn or I will answer the boss' queries for you. Is that clear?"

Tsuna nods.

She nods back, albeit weakly and takes a step to the dining room when an unfamiliar callused hand grips her wrist, tight. She jerks back, startled by the warmth of it.

"What is it?" She doesn't bare her teeth at Kyoya, but it's close.

Kyoya curls his lip, the rest of his face is glacial, but his brows are furrowed in a way she has never seen before. For the first time, he looks unsure of what he's doing. "Give me your hand," he orders.

"Why? What are you planning?" She doesn't like that she sounds accusing. Behind them, Rita, now grinning wide-eyed, takes Tsuna and leads him to the dining room, shushing his protests.

"I want to piss him off," Kyoya says.

"The boss?" She carefully withdraws her wrist back from Kyoya. "Are you– Do you want to be punished too?"

"You think he can touch me?" Kyoya is watching her intently, his gaze lands to a smidge of blood on the corner of her lip.

"I –" she sighs, disbelieving, lowering her voice, so she's sure only he can hear her words. "You should be past the age of being so arrogant. You're even worse than I am! I ask you again. Do you want to be _punished?"_ She says, stiffening, the static crackle of panic audible in her vowels. Kyoya doesn't answer, giving her time to think for once. Whether or not this is intentional, she doesn't care to ponder.

She exhales. Her eyes are wide and suddenly at awe. "You're not afraid of his punishments," this is said with a hint of laughter.

That curl on his lip again. She's seen it in Ryuusei too. "I am not. Now give me your hand."

She doesn't believe him. She shakes her head, perhaps too quickly, because he scowls.

"You pity me, don't you?" She concludes. Her temper flares a little. Why else would he do this? Kyoya doesn't do things for others without self-benefit. Suddenly he's being amiable just because she got punched. She's unwilling to use that as a foundation for any sort of a relationship. She brings her bandaged palms flush to the center of her chest. "This is why you're doing this."

Kyoya's eyes flash for a moment, his patience thinning. "It's not pity, Rosetta."

It's the first time he says her name, and he says it perfectly. Unlike Tetsuya or Takenaka or Tsuna or the others who butcher it with their stubborn accents. She bites her lip, expression softening.

"You're not going to tell if I ask what it is, if not _pity_." It's a statement, not a question.

"No. I will not," he says, narrowing his eyes. Stubborn. Guarded. As if giving her a piece of him will hurt him indefinitely. She wonders what kind of people made him to be like this. It couldn't be Ryuusei alone. The boss would have help. Did Takenaka hurt him too? Did Tetsuya enable him too much? At least she knows that he's not lying.

She studies him under a grudging new light, extending her hand which he takes and tucks atop the back of his elbow. Close like this, they look like a legitimate couple.

"I'm not afraid of his punishments too," she says, although she doesn't sound convinced herself. Kyoya scoffs. She rolls her eyes.

"How is this going to piss him off?" She asks as he leads her to the dining room.

"It will," Kyoya doesn't quite promise, but there is an unassailable edge of confidence in his stance. Rosetta rides along with it.

* * *

The dinner is thankfully uneventful as Ryuusei's formal dinners go. That means no gruesome deaths. They ate a sweet and savory chicken dish Rosetta can't pronounce properly and washed it down with decaffeinated tea. Halfway through dessert, Ryuusei blesses them with a fatherly smile and says: "Let the adults talk business, you children can lounge at the garden, talk about things suitable for your age."

Rosetta wrinkles her nose at his half-assed dismissal.

Ryuusei sweeps his eyes over to her when she doesn't move. "I said children. That means you too, my dear."

"You said business," she says, eyes wide with feigned innocence. "Your business is my business."

"Not when it's related to my family."

Rosetta looks away, her eyes landing to Ryuusei's ugly tea set, tempted to chuck a few choice pieces out in the stone garden. "So, I'm only family when it's convenient for you," she says, standing up, adjusting the flow of her skirt.

Ryuusei sighs. "I can say the same for you. Get out before I lose my patience, my dear."

"Yeah. Have a nice trip," she bows once, as perfectly as how Takenaka taught her.

"Don't let me worry about you," he says kindly with a fatherly smile, but she has heard him use that same tone to order the deaths of children. She says goodbye to the heir and to Kunishige who doesn't even acknowledge her. He's been struggling the entire night, his neck a map of bruises. It must have been difficult to swallow.

"Oh, and my dear before I forget–" Ryuusei says suddenly, uncharacteristic for him to have forgotten anything. She freezes, turning back. "–take care of your hands will you? No use cutting in yourself when there're others to cook for him. Try something else."

The rest are looking at her. Mutsuo's face is openly curious.

She swallows, flushing in embarrassment.

"I want to do this," she says.

"I can order you to stop."

"Please don't," she winces.

"Then the strays in our park will continue to fatten." Ryuusei shakes his head. He looks and sounds disappointed. "Do as you wish, you little fool."

* * *

Even under the threat of assassination, life goes on.

Rosetta wakes up before everyone else, dragging Fusanosuke from his station outside her room to the basement where the kitchen opens under a key she seemingly wills to existence. Tetsuya appears fifteen minutes in as she's chopping up peppers. He looks guilty and reprimanded.

"You don't have to do this," he discourages her. "I feed it to the dogs."

She pauses, narrowing her eyes, irritable. Her stomach still aches from last night. "Better than him throwing it away," she says and throws the peppers into a bowl. "If you're here anyway, you might as well help. See those mushrooms over there?"

"I can't help you. I'm supposed to convince y–"

She slams her fist into the wooden countertop, rattling all the utensils, overly loud in the cavernous room. She is not looking at him, eyes pressed closed in frustration.

Tetsuya shakes his head, unruffled by her display of violence.

"I'm not helping you," he says, his characteristic impassivity ever present. He feels like his day would go better if he nudges against her pushy nature.

"If I will be convinced, it will not be by you," she says simply, wiping her hands on a towel. She takes a stool from beneath one of the working tables and reaches for a bag of dried mushrooms in the pantry.

Tetsuya wanders around as she pointedly ignores him. There are handfuls of vegetables boiling on the stove. Fusanosuke is by the servant's entrance, saluting smartly when he walks by. The house doctor is present too, sitting atop a hard case, reading a pulp novel in the limited light.

He blinks, surprised. "Iwasaki-sensei, you're here–"

"Tetsuya-san, don't you have other people to bother? Why don't you find a place where you can pay to be liked?" Rosetta calls from the counter.

The doctor, Iwasaki, shoots him a pitying look from behind her glasses.

"Rosetta-san, I'm trying to help you," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"By being a big fat distraction? Go on!"

"The boss asked you to stop. It's not going to work. We can try something else. I already promised to help you." Tetsuya scoffs when she glares at him. "Why are you even doing this?"

"Go away, Tetsuya-san."

"This is stubbornness at its finest. Do you know what you look like from the outside?"

She ignores him.

"You look insincere. Desperate," he says.

"Tetsuya-san. Stop it. I don't want to hear this from you."

"You're not going to hear it from anyone else."

Rosetta purses her lips. She feels small under his annoyingly discerning gaze and hates the feeling more than anything. Hot water goes into a bowl, then goes the mushrooms. There's a towel on the counter where she wipes her hands, pointedly looking away from Tetsuya who's not giving her an inch.

"I have to work with something." She says, a bit angry, slamming a carrot on the chopping board. "Do you want me to give up?"

Tetsuya leans back on the counter she's using, crossing his arms. When he speaks, it's in Italian. His accent is as terrible as his father, but it makes their conversation private.

"When I was three years old, the boss handed me an infant and told me that I would care and serve him for the rest of my life. I've done what Hibari-san wanted me to do. I've killed for him, hurt for him, cooked for him even. I know him more than anyone else. He won't like you any better for something as false as this."

"How the hell is this false?" She shuts her eyes. It hurts looking at him, it hurts looking at the truth when it's wrapped up in admonishment. "It feels real to me."

"Do you love him?"

"What?" Anger flares up. She can't believe he just said that. "How could you ask that? How is that related to anything?"

"A wife cooks for her husband because she loves him. You don't even care for him. You're throwing him bribes hoping that he'll accept! You _know_ this. You're smart enough to know. That's why I don't understand why you persist to be a–"

"It's my duty! Shut up! Don't patronize me!"

"I'm not. Rosetta-san, listen to me."

"You think I'm going to make this easy for you?"

"I was hoping you'd be reasonable."

"Does that phrase work on Kyoya-san when he ignores you as well?" she says without thinking.

Tetsuya's face collapses in a crunch of angry features, it's an unflattering look on him, one that throws Rosetta into panic. The knife on her hand slips and she cuts her thumb with a cry. It clatters on the floor, almost as a reproach.

Iwasaki folds her novel and rummages through her case for gauze. Rosetta waves her off, pressing her thumb against her apron for the bleeding.

"I didn't mean to say that," she tells Tetsuya, who stiffens. He's clenching his fingers so hard that even in the dark the veins under his skin are visible.

"You don't," he repeats in monotone, it's between a question and a statement.

"I don't," she clarifies. "I said that to hurt you. I do it a lot when I'm angry."

Fusanosuke closes the fire below a boiling pot as Iwasaki forces her hand under cool running water.

Rosetta shuts her eyes, reaching for a spoon under the drawer nearest to her. She moves slowly, dragging an aluminum bowl towards her. She fills the spoon halfway and extends it to Tetsuya, praying that he'll take it.

"Quite a weak apology," he says, but he takes the spoon.

"It's not an apology. It's my answer, or at least part of it."

Tetsuya is studying her oddly, anger seemingly gone. But she can't be so sure. Not with him, not with anyone.

He tastes it and blinks, licking his lips, chasing the fleeting taste. He meanders to the bowl, about to dip his spoon once more when Rosetta makes a horrified sound.

"Use another spoon!"

"It's good," Tetsuya says and pauses. "What is it?"

Rosetta feels too bad to smile. "It's beef consommé."

"Con-what?"

"Consommé," she corrects. "It's the one I put in the thermoses that don't come back." Iwasaki is now rolling medicated gauze over her cut.

Tetsuya switches his spoon and tastes again. "It's really good. I feed this to the dogs?" He switches to Japanese without realizing it.

Rosetta looks away from his face. "I cook because I found that I'm not so hopeless with it, regardless of what your father has to say. It's easier to learn than piano and… it …it's _fun_. It makes me _feel_ great," she whispers softly. Cooking makes her happy, as fleeting as it is, she's grateful for it. It's a small escape. "I'm not good at anything else."

"That's not true," Tetsuya says, putting his spoon down. He doesn't clarify. She's not going to wave off his words by listing all her inadequacies either. She exhales when she sees his shoulders relax. Crisis averted.

"I still disapprove," Tetsuya mumbles. "But I understand you."

She doubts he does, but she nods, resisting the urge to embrace him. "I've made too much this morning. Do you want a bento as well?"

* * *

They go to school after a breakfast of leftovers. Tetsuya receives his own bento since he helped along with her other companions in the kitchen. She's asked him to give Kyoya his own, tiring of seeing her efforts go to waste.

She doesn't offer food to Reborn or Tsuna since Nana meets them at the school gates every morning to hand them their lunches. Rosetta doesn't know what lies Iemitsu spouts to his wife to hide the truth from her. Something about sumo lessons perhaps because the mother keeps on asking her about weight gain and strength training.

"Your son is quite gifted," Rosetta would say to Tsuna's mortification. Nana seems to be happy for her son to have found a hobby he's good at.

They sweep into the classroom, ready for the grueling day. Years spent with the boss did little to prepare her for the insanity of a classroom. Sharing her husband's last name gives her unimaginable leeway, unimaginable _power._ She vowed not to use it, but something ticks in her when the history teacher admonishes Tsuna for the sixth time.

It ruffles her feathers.

"You're wasting class time. Expecting him to answer correctly with your methods is like expecting the sun to rise from the west. Sawada-san, sit down." She says.

The classroom nearly chokes in silence. Some are staring at her wide-eyed. She never speaks in class. Despite what she said, Tsuna remains standing, shoulders hunched and cheeks flushed.

"Hibari-chan," the teacher admonishes, clasping her hands, "don't make assumptions about the right way to teach. You're not a teacher. Sawada-kun needs to learn his lesson. We're stuck at this topic for a week. If he can't answer–"

"I guess I can make assumptions about the right way to learn. I'm a student. Sawada-san is not learning properly."

The teacher frowns, assessing her and the disciplinary committee member standing at the back.

"If you're so sure, then I guess I should be the student and you be the teacher," the teacher says, crossing her arms, challenging.

"How the hell did you come to that conclusion?" Rosetta questions after a whole minute, trying for Tetsuya's precise condescension only to sound spoiled and petulant. She stands, only for a large hand to block her path. Fusanosuke is at the aisle, holding a phone to her. "Phone call, ma'am. It's urgent."

Rosetta swallows, her throat dry. Fusanosuke shakes the phone again. She can see the screen clearly.

"Go on," Tsuna mutters, still standing. "It might be the boss."

She snatches the phone from him, leaving the room with a slam on the door as he follows. She pockets the phone and stalks to the end of the hall where the window is. Right here she has a view of the school's oval. A class is having P.E., playing baseball of all things.

"You didn't need to save me," she admonishes Fusanosuke who gives her a doubtful look as she gives him back the phone that's definitely not ringing. "You didn't need to make that up."

"Do you want me to get rid of her?"

"What, the teacher?" She asks.

"Yes, ma'am. She can be gone tomorrow."

Rosetta purses her lips. "What will you do?"

Something ugly twists over Fusanosuke's face. "Nothing permanent."

She grins, amused. "If you're going to get rid of everyone I hate, you can start with the librarian."

"If you wish, ma'am."

"I was joking," she doesn't laugh. "But don't do that again. Don't assume I need help unless I ask for it." Her tone is light, but the edges of her words are sharp.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Back to the classroom."

She eats lunch with the girls. Kyoko talks about the pros and cons of using baking chocolate for dessert while she dutifully takes down notes to Hana's surprise. She shares her consommé, emptying the mini thermos as Kyoko gives her better suggestions for skimming the layer of fat above the soup. Rosetta has half a mind to throw the expensive cookbooks in the kitchen and store Kyoko in one of the cupboards instead.

"Why don't you take some?" Hana asks her, when the soup is nearly finished.

"I bit my tongue last night. Anything hot is agony to me. You want to see?" She sticks out her tongue before Hana could reject her. The table erupts in horror.

"Shit, what did you do?" Hana inspects the muscle with dread.

"Talked too much without thinking," Rosetta slips her tongue back with a grin as Hana rolls her eyes. Kyoko starts a story about how her brother lost a few teeth in a boxing match.

* * *

Tetsuya places the bento on Kyoya's desk. There are bags under Kyoya's eyes. He looks uncharacteristically tired.

"Throw it," Kyoya doesn't even look from the stack of documents he's filtering through. There's money on the table, contributions from the school organizations. Ryuusei teaches his sons corruption at a young age.

"Vegetarian paella, beef consommé and poached pears, boss."

Kyoya pauses and pins Tetsuya with an intense stare which doesn't bother Tetsuya because he's not looking back. Kyoya frowns. He picks up bento, along with a thermos and a smaller container and dumps it in the trash.

"What are you still doing here? I don't tolerate tardiness."

"Of course boss," Tetsuya says professionally.

* * *

Rosetta copies Kyoko's assignment ten minutes before the bell rings under the guide of 'comparing answers'. Hana shoots her dirty looks the entire time. Classes in the afternoon are uneventful. The math teacher makes fun of Tsuna's grades twice, which is an all-time low. When it is time to go home, Rosetta sidles up to Tetsuya in the reception room who's signing a stack of papers and clears her throat.

"I want to see the dogs," she says. She's quite relieved that Kyoya isn't there. She tries not to stare at the trash can.

Tetsuya blinks. "I don't feed them until two hours."

"Okay," she nods. "I'll stay in the library. Sawada-san needs time with his friends too. You can pick us up later."

The man puts his pen down. "Rosetta-san. I'm feeding strays, a lot of strays. It's not like what you think."

"The disappointment shall be mine to bear when it comes to that," she sniffs, giving him no room for argument. Fusanosuke trails her as she leaves.

Tetsuya takes off his reading glasses and mutters under his breath. He picks up the phone, dialing three numbers from muscle memory. "Hello, yes. It's Tetsuya Kusakabe. We need the park secured by five p.m."

* * *

None of the dogs looked like Marco. Marco was a tall and a lean dog that operated on four gangly legs and a bent tail. Marco's fur was thin on some areas as the dog recovered from mange. She's pretty sure it was missing an eye too. Rosetta rolls on her bed, running a hand through her hair, trying to be comfortable. The dogs in the park were small animals, short furred and well mannered, likely abandoned by owners in their neighborhood. Most are already neutered by the local welfare groups. She feels sorry for them, but not sorry enough to take them home.

She sees a familiar tiny black square on the edge of her desk and groans.

"Seriously? Freaking hell." She kicks her blankets away, looking for a knife.

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" Not-Fusanosuke asks from outside her door.

"I'm fine! Don't mind me!" She sings, throwing her drawers open. When she finds nothing, she closes her eyes and concentrates, putting a handout.

She conjures a knife with her flames and pries off the surveillance bug until it gives in. She looks around and definitely finds another behind her bedpost. "Dear Lord!"

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" Not-Fusanosuke asks again.

"Can you call Reborn-san?" She calls over. This is trouble. Takenaka is notorious for invading other people's privacies. He doesn't leave a building unless he's planted a bug or two, maybe fifty.

"You want him to come here?"

"Yes, please!"

Reborn strolls over just as she's dismantling the fifth bug.

"You too, huh?" Reborn clicks his tongue.

"Kusakabe-san is a menace," she seethes. "How many did you find?"

"Twelve."

"I apologize in behalf of the family," she says, wary. She is nervous, not because she thinks Takenaka did any wrong. She's nervous because she's afraid that Reborn will be angry. His tantrums are legendary.

"Don't, the Vongola would do the same if they housed you too." He replies, he should sound indifferent, but an edge has wedged itself in his tone. He's definitely mad.

She stiffens.

Reborn sighs. He's growing too comfortable around her. "It's not this. I'm not mad." He makes a gesture when she doesn't seem to believe him. "Not because of this."

"Would it be presumptuous if I asked?"

Leon crawls to Reborn's tiny palm. The lizard turns into a knife, similar to the one on her hand. He locates a bug under her bed, only visible at his height. He assesses her for a moment before he gives in. "Do you know who Fuuta de la Stella is?"

"Ranking Fuuta of the Vongola. Isn't he a hoax?" She finds a bug by her curtains.

"He's not. He's been living with Nana Sawada for the past months."

She furrows her brows at that. The only people she's met in the house are Lambo and I-pin. They don't fit Fuuta's profile. "I assume he's non-lethal then."

"He's as harmless as a sheep," Reborn agrees, crouching to peer under her bed. He sees a collection of expensive shoes. "And his presence was supposed to be secret."

"Secret's out then?" She asks.

Reborn purses his lips. "I _wish._ Fuuta de la Stella disappeared this afternoon without a trace. He's either kidnapped–" he looks at her, shaking his head "–or dead."

* * *

 **A Note to The Readers:** *looks at canon Mukuro* Yeaaaahhhhh... I'm going to tweak a few (a lot, maybe?) of events of the Kokuyo arc. I don't think I'll be giving you readers any justice if I just slammed the same thing in here. See you all!


	7. Naive Dreamers

**A Note to the Readers:** *sweats profusely as I type this* (;ﾟ;Д;ﾟ；;)

Well. I know I said Mukuro arc but things happened. I guess I shouldn't rush into it so soon. Mukuro will appear in the next chapter in his glorious terrifying self. In the meantime I give you all... this! Someone asked me in private messaging what Rosetta looks like or if my cover photo conveys her looks. I don't really know, I guess. To be honest, you can imagine her however you wish. A character's looks never really mattered that much to me.

I thank EthaGrinndt and Devil'sblade for your continued support. I thank Mitsu21 and Marie Yoshina for your invaluable outputs. For all you anons who commented below, thank you as well. It's always a pleasant surprise to see that some of you take this well. It boosts my confidence and it makes my schooldays less horrible.

To my new followers, welcome to my express train!

Happy reading!

* * *

 **CHAPTER SIX**

Naive Dreamers

* * *

"Any luck on our recent project?" Rosetta asks, slipping into Italian without looking up from her homework. They're at one of the school's open grounds, crammed on one of the long metal seats partly warmed by the afternoon sun. Kyoko is beside her, needling embroidery clamped between a brass hoop. She's been working on a blue hued fish since last week. Hana is on the field, practicing archery.

Tetsuya sits beside her, legs wide apart. She elbows him when he gets too close, forcing him out of the small patch of shade they're occupying.

"None," he grunts. "Hibari-san threw it again."

"I wasn't asking about that," she puts her pen down. "You make me sound desperate. I was asking about Byakuran."

"He's still in hiding," at least Tetsuya sounds sorry. His fingers fidget against his knees.

"I think," he intones. "I have a suggestion for tomorrow's dish."

Tetsuya, to her surprise, began helping her in the mornings, in exchange for his share of food of course. It was fun the first night, but he turned out to be a nuisance after he asked her for the fourth time what a garlic press was. She's been trying to shake him off, but he has been persistent. Tomorrow will be his fifth day.

"What?" She asks.

"Hamburger steak."

Rosetta scoffs. "Hamburger steak isn't _real_ steak. It's an insult to–" she sees his pointed expression. "Oh–"

"Do you think I should make his eyes blue, or brown?" Kyoko asks, lifting her work to Rosetta who blinks owlishly before she takes it for inspection. She didn't understand the point of embroidery until she saw Kyoko's extremely detailed handiwork. It was a humbling experience.

"Why a fish?" Tetsuya takes the pattern from her hand, flipping back to Japanese to Rosetta's relief. His is a family of atrocious accents.

"Surely there are better animals," he presses.

Rosetta snatches Kyoko's work from his thick fingers. "Keep your opinions to yourself," she says sourly. "If Sasagawa-san wants to settle for a Tuna then she will. Brown eyes will look better."

She must have said something wrong because Kyoko sputters, her face red, nimbly shoving her work into her handbag.

"Now you've embarrassed her," Tetsuya sighs, standing up. He nods at Fusanosuke who returns to his position behind Rosetta.

"Have I?" Rosetta raises an eyebrow, trying to look at Kyoko's face through her fingers which are now covering her face. "Did I embarrass you?"

Kyoko squeals, shaking her head. It's ridiculously cute.

Rosetta narrows her eyes. "What was the point of you coming here?" She asks Tetsuya who glances behind the seats. She follows his gaze and finds Tsuna talking animatedly to a blonde foreigner. She feels a flare of discomfort just looking at the man's green and black coat, it's hot today.

"That's Dino Chiavarone," Tetsuya says. "He's not a problem to us. He wanted to meet you."

"I know who he is," Rosetta frowns. Who doesn't know who Dino Chiavarone is? He's a rising star, enabled sheer impossibilities that nearly cost her father half of their drug pipelines when he shook hands with the local police and took over Italy like a disease. People at the top of the pile used to operating in their closed systems stood no chance against his innovative ideas. There is no other Don that she truly dislikes –she will never admit her grudging admiration.

"Why didn't you tell me beforehand that he's coming?" She cracks a smile.

"I received the missive this morning."

"Yeah," she says, squeezing irritation out of her voice, "and cell phones exist for a reason." She stretches, straightening her uniform. "Sasagawa-san, excuse me for a moment."

* * *

Grass crunches under her shoes as she meets the pair, ignoring odd glances from other passing students.

"Ah, Hibari-san. This is Dino-san, he's mafia, just like you," Tsuna says, grinning.

Rosetta gives him a look. "Sawada-san, good afternoon." And to Dino she nods, polite, trying not to overdo it. "I don't believe we've met."

"We have," Dino says. His Japanese is better than hers, he almost sounds native. He kisses her hand, keeping eye-contact. He is handsome in how men wished they were, dimpled smiles and flawless teeth. You'd feel sorry for him if you didn't think hard enough, to be born in the mafia with his kind eyes and his leonine heart. So much wool one might even forget the wolf inside.

"I would have not forgotten a face like yours." Her smile remains. Dino doesn't let go of her hand.

"Ah, you were young then and too busy observing your betrothed." He explains. His voice sounds polite. She looks over his shoulders and sees Dino's retainer observing her the way Takenaka does to potential enemies.

She pauses, confused.

"You've met the other Hibari-san?" Tsuna shoots the question to Dino.

Then it clicks. Rosetta breathes from her nose, putting a hand on Tsuna's shoulder. The memory knocks like an unwanted visitor. She keeps her jaw shut to stop herself from saying something she'll regret later on.

"A misunderstanding perhaps," Dino scratches his head innocently. "She was seven then." He says. "You were supposed to marry Xanxus, weren't you?"

"Yes," she breathes out, hands smoothing her skirt. Vaguely, she hears Hana's voice from afar, a cheer, perhaps she's finally split the arrow as she wanted. Rosetta says nothing else.

"Xanxus? Who's that?"

Rosetta laughs genuinely, squeezing Tsuna's shoulder. "He's mafia, just like me."

* * *

"Ah, don't," Tetsuya snatches the fillet from her hands. "It's impossible to hand feed Katashi, he nearly bit my fingers."

Rosetta stands up from the press of the dogs' furry bodies. Her uniform is ruined with dog hair. "Katashi? You name the strays?"

"Of course," Tetsuya says, a bag of dog food in hand. The dogs send him eager looks, circling each other with their tongues out and their wagging tails. "That's Nemu, the small one is Haruto–"

"I feel bad for Byakuran. Poor bastard. Poor chap," she blurts out, observing him. "He's forced into this life, you know."

Tetsuya stills, observing her, gaze boring into her head. She's doing the same thing. "He tried to kill us," he points out.

She sniffs, breaking eye contact. "I was just checking, maybe you grew a heart."

Tetsuya rolls his eyes.

The sun is not quite low over the snarl of the park's trees. She estimates about an hour of daylight. The park should be crowded with children now, but the adjoining playground is deserted. She counts around fifteen bodyguards stationed strategically around the area.

Kyoko sneezes from beside her.

"Ah, sorry," she smiles, "dog allergies."

"You didn't have to come," Rosetta wipes her hands with a towel given by Tetsuya.

Kyoko shakes her head. "No, I wanted to. I was curious about the dogs." She says to Tetsuya's visible delight. Behind his outline, they can see the outline of Tsuna's sagged shoulders. The boy is sitting on one of the stone benches, talking animatedly to his mother who misses him dearly. Reborn is missing, ostensibly annoyed when he takes a phone call he cannot deny. He's working on Fuuta's case. Rosetta will give him time away from Tsuna if she can.

"Tetsuya-san could have given you pictures," Rosetta says, sweeping her eyes over to the clutch of wriggling tails. "I'm sure he has pictures."

"Yes," Kyoko says, polite. "I–" and then she blushes.

Rosetta stares.

She drags Kyoko out of Tetsuya's earshot and hisses. "What is this? Do you like Tetsuya-san?"

"No!"

"Good." Rosetta straightens, frowning. "He's pretty much Kyoya-san's mistress."

"Mistress!" Kyoko's eyes are as wide as saucers.

"Shuh, I'm still missing something aren't I?"

"I will not say," Kyoko says, pressing her lips against the back of her fist. "It's my secret."

"As long as you're enjoying yourself," Rosetta concedes, still wary. Her expression darkens when the dogs jump around, begging for affection Tetsuya gives without a second thought. Visiting the dogs is oddly relaxing, but eventually, Rosetta remembers her own Marco and watching feels like a chore. She knows she can bring them home but doesn't want to replace Marco. Not just yet.

"Is that your bento?" Kyoko asks in horror.

"Oh, yeah. Kyoya-san has refined tastes. He doesn't eat my lunch."

"That's horrible."

They watch as Tetsuya throws choice pieces of steak to the animals.

Rosetta shrugs. "It's fine. He could have done worse."

But Kyoko doesn't let it go, she stares at her friend openly disbelieving, lips turned into a fine pout. Rosetta briefly wonders what it feels like to be the epitome of feminine beauty when Kyoko says:

"Don't lie to me, Hibari-chan–"

And that's it, isn't it? Rosetta's easy smile falls. She clenches her fists, presses her knuckles against her forehead. She hates hearing that phrase. _'Don't lie to me!'_ Hell. Ryuusei's face swims in her vision. Fusanosuke's hand is on her shoulder, saying something she doesn't hear. Her skin prickles. Idiopathic pain blooms in her diaphragm, her throat, her jawline. She pushes him off with a pinched expression. "Don't touch me."

"Ma'am, are you okay?" Fusanosuke's voice is filled with concern.

"I'm fine. What? Do I look like someone about to keel over?" She challenges, keeping eye contact, Fusanosuke is the first to look away. She's breathing hard when she looks over to Kyoko. The girl looks confused. Rosetta looks beyond her. Tetsuya's back is on them, so he doesn't notice. Good. She doesn't want to deal with him, not right now.

"To be candid, you were," Fusanosuke says, but he doesn't touch her.

"I said I'm fine," Rosetta says again, there's not a hitch in her voice now. A mask of professionalism settles. "Leave us, will you? You damn mother-hen."

Fusanosuke nods, but he's frowning. He probably has questions. She wishes he's smart enough not to ask.

"I'm sorry," Kyoko says.

"Don't be sorry if you don't know what you're apologizing for." Rosetta frowns, sobering up. Something bitter makes its way up her throat. Disgusting. She swallows. They shouldn't have brought Kyoko along. She's a civilian. What if something happens? What if there's an ambush? She can't just conjure another gun and ask the girl to arm herself. At least Nana is somehow connected to the Vongola.

"All right, but I can make it up to you," Kyoko continues brightly, clutching her hands together.

Rosetta frowns again.

"If you keep on doing that, your frown will stick to your face."

She bares her teeth to Kyoko's annoyance.

"Oh, come on," Kyoko grins. "I know a few traditional recipes. Maybe if we try one of mine, Hibari-san might try your lunches." Kyoko swallows when she sees the look on Rosetta's face. "I mean, my brother doesn't even leave leftovers," she finishes lamely.

Something flares in her chest. Rosetta recognizes it as the purest form of petty rivalry and barrels on. "My cooking," she starts, wide-eyed, turning to Kyoko without blinking, "is _fantastic_." It comes out as an irritated hiss. "If Kyoya-san will eat his bento, it will be with one of _my_ recipes."

"You're making bento for your husband?" Nana says as she approaches them, her slippers making prints in the sand. She seems to have overheard their conversation. Great. Awesome. "How cute!"

Tsuna is following behind, looking down when Kyoko catches his eyes.

"Yes, we just finished talking about it." Rosetta crosses her arms.

"No, you haven't," Tetsuya butts to her surprise. "Sawada-san, do you know how to make hamburger steak?"

* * *

They end up in an average sized local supermarket because according to Kusakabe, it's easier to secure than the wet market. They're an odd bunch, led around by Tsuna's mother who's politely trying to dissuade Kyoko from a brand of breadcrumbs the girl particularly liked. They've been touring around the grocery's aisles, comparing brands and prices for nearly half an hour. They fill the cart with a mess of items. During the first few minutes, Rosetta peels an odd-looking orange out of curiosity, forcing them to take the entire pack. Tsuna dents a few canned vegetables and breaks a few eggs, which ends up in the cart too. She smiles at first, having fun, but after a while she bleeds into the background, inching unobtrusively to Tetsuya who's guarding the back.

The recipe feels heavy on Rosetta's pocket as she neutrally inspects a jar of onion soup, the first ingredient on the list.

"I want to go home," she whispers to Tetsuya. They've cleared out most of the shoppers, the few remaining on the inside are giving them odd looks.

"What's wrong?"

"This place sucks," technically, that isn't a lie.

"I thought you'd have fun, honestly," Tetsuya sighs.

Annoyance wells up in her, but she stifles it with a strained grin. He observes her again with that calculating look on his face.

"That's not your job," she says, looking away.

"You deserve to have fun," Tetsuya says this nonchalantly, holding his chin high. There's honesty in that, so much of it that Rosetta clenches her teeth.

"Have fun?" She repeats, putting the can down. She looks for Kyoko and Nana and sees that they are in the meat section, now arguing about something far more mundane than the humidity of breadcrumbs. Tsuna is following them like a puppy. "Our family is at war with the Gesso. Fuuta de la Stella is missing. Have fun? My happiness isn't your job. Are you trying to slack off?" she jabs a finger at his chest, trying to be angrier than she has any right to be.

"You always remind me how much of a prick you are every time I change my mind," Tetsuya pushes her finger down, his expression stony. "You were doing so well."

"Don't–" she bites down a retort, looking down. Her façade collapses. Her eyes sting. It's so much easier to pretend when there's so much at stake. Like this, when her mind registers Tetsuya as her friend, it's far more difficult. Like climbing a rock face without equipment.

Tetsuya stills.

"Why did you bring me here?" She asks. Her voice doesn't crack, but it's near, despair paints her vowels. "Why did you bring Kyoko when she asked to come? I brought her to you so you could reject her."

He looks at her like the answer is obvious and that she's too obtuse to think for herself.

"You're lonely. You need more friends. I can't– I can't be your friend, Rosetta-san."

She hates it that he sounds gentle. She feels pitied.

"You're not my friend," she sounds resentful. "You're Kyoya-san's retainer. And you don't have -you shouldn't do this."

"Do what?" Tetsuya bristles, confused.

Rosetta has tears in her eyes when she gestures lamely to the direction of Kyoko. Tetsuya wishes she is angry instead. He knows how to deal with rage. It's either one of the two, Kyoya's sharp anger or Rosetta slow simmer of a promised outburst. He doesn't know how to deal with hurt. Injured strays don't talk about their pain.

"Do you know it's my first time in a grocery? Do you know it's my first time to go out with people who might care for me and not the stocks I have in my name? Kyoko stays because she likes me, because she's too dumb to be afraid of my husband. I'm so happy, I'm so goddamn happy–" she wipes her tears with her uniform sleeve. "But this is a dream. It's just a good dream." Her voice sounds uncomfortably like a sob.

Tetsuya doesn't understand.

"You're giving me a taste of something I cannot afford to yearn for." She says. "All this, it will end before I realize it. It's cruelty."

His throat clicks when he swallows. "I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't think–"

"You didn't," she presses her hands to her face. "I'll be at the car. Tell them I got a stomachache or –or make something up, will you?" She sounds utterly defeated by life. Kyoya's wife shouldn't sound like that.

"Okay," Tetsuya hears himself say. "Okay, I'll hurry them up."

* * *

In her tiny bedroom, she spends an hour writing a letter to her mother. But it doesn't work as it did once. Her mother never replies. Even if she is alive again, Rosetta doubts she'll give her the time of day. Perhaps her mother was right, calling them monsters before she shut her eyes.

So she gets to work. She fishes the updated stack of coded ledgers from under her bed and goes over the numbers. Ryuusei doesn't trust computers, even when they tried to convince him. He'd rather leave a paper trail for Takenaka to worry about. It's a good distraction that takes her mind from the present. She obsessively goes over every charity fund, every illegitimate business, fake enterprises. Ryuusei's fingers are knuckle deep in nearly all of Japan's booming corporations.

There's a knock on the door. Rosetta ignores it. Anybody important enough would just open the damn thing, never mind that she's underdressed.

The door opens, papers flutter as a cold breeze makes its way under her shirt.

"I could have been sleeping," she tells Kyoya, looking back. He takes his time to observe the mess in her room, comfortable in a way she knows she won't be if the situation is reversed.

"You missed our meeting."

She makes a sound of disbelief as she faces him, looking up from her position at the floor. "I didn't think you'd mind," she says neutrally. "After all, you're the one avoiding me."

Kyoya ignores her; he reaches for a picture frame lying face down near her cabinet and finds it empty. She vows to chuck it out later on. He puts it back.

"Wear something decent," he says, observing her as her face reddens in embarrassment. "We're going for a drive."

* * *

She rests her arm on the car's windowsill and balances her head on the crook of her elbow, watching the scenery unfold through the bulletproof glass. The outskirts of Namimori at midnight is somewhere out of a fairytale, a dark brooding forest where the trees melt into one another in a lover's embrace. Kyoya is sitting beside her, reading a book under the yellow light of the backseat.

"Where are we going?" She asks for the fourth time.

Kyoya shuts his book, impatience floods his features.

"You'll see," he says for the fourth time too.

"I wasn't talking to you," she says and lightly nudges her foot to where Fusanosuke is driving.

"Where are we going, Fusa?"

"Safe house, ma'am."

Rosetta shoots Kyoya a satisfied look.

"What are we going to do there?"

She sees his expression tighten over the rear-view mirror. "That's for you to decide ma'am."

Her confusion ebbs away when they leave the vehicle to a bunker-like building tucked in between a copse of hardwood trees. Tetsuya is waiting on the outside, arms pressed on his back. He greets her indifferently as he opens the doors for them.

The bunker leads further underground, their shoes ring against metal stairs like an executioner's bell, easing through checkpoints. She doesn't recognize the men, but the men know her and salute in a drilled a way all the boss' loyal retainers seem to possess.

The smell hits her like a slap. It's familiar. The putrid stench of death and infection toned down by an undercurrent human excreta. Ryuusei has several of these bunkers scattered around Japan, a few in Italy. Once, she's spent a week in one of the darker cells, kept away from food and water. The human cages are mostly empty, save for a handful. Tetsuya leads them to a heavily guarded room.

"Pasquale Provenzano, second son of Nicodemo," Kyoya says, gesturing to the inside.

"Ah, that's why Dino Chiavarone was here. I was wondering," Rosetta's tone is carefully blank. "Trading us Pasquale..." For what though? She'll demand answers later on. But she understands the boss. Ryuusei can't ignore an opportunity like this, not when it's presented on a silver plate. It's not like he has much of a choice either, Dino can always turn the tables on Ryuusei with his hands around Pasquale's neck.

"We need a recorded confession," Tetsuya hands a cassette recorder to her surprise. Torture. Interrogation. Proof in case the Gesso pleads to powerful sympathetic famiglia and accuse them of murder without good reason. As if murder needed to be justified in the underworld. Briefly, she thinks of Tsuna.

"Why? That's not my expertise." It's a lie. She doesn't like it. The boss takes pleasure in it though, enjoys the rhythm of doing something he excels at. And she watched and learned and remembered.

"Boss' orders."

"Ah," she takes the recorder, remembers the feel of her hand on her husband's arm, her body flush against Kyoya's, the momentary flash of confusion on Ryuusei's smug countenance when they entered the dining room. She looks at Kyoya, who is surprisingly looking back. "This is your fault," she says.

The boss had a way for punishment, forcing her into doings things she doesn't want every time she steps on his toes.

Pasquale is lying in a pool of his own blood, his teeth bashed in. The fingers on his right hand are twisted to the point that his entire arm looks like a gnarled tree.

"Hello," Rosetta greets delicately, squatting far from him.

"Fuck you."

"Ah," she says. She used to say that too. Tetsuya reassured her that the confession can wait, so she uses it to her advantage. "Who killed Hibari Kuniyoshi?"

"I don't fucking know!"

"How did he die?"

"I said I don't know."

She looks over to him. He is thoroughly beaten, but he's vibrating with defiance. He shares Byakuran's features, a mop of white hair and odd colored eyes, the fork below his swollen eye. His jaw is square though, and his body is filled out nicely, years of being fed properly.

Rosetta sighs. "I need nails," she says to the men standing beside Pasquale. She can feel Kyoya's insistent stare on the back of her neck. "And a mallet please."

Pasquale doesn't look terrified at all, but he screams when she orders the men to hammer nails between his knuckles, three on each hand.

"You studied medicine, didn't you? Wanted to be a doctor did you? Wanted to save lives?" Rosetta asks. "You know what will happen to your body now."

"F-fuck you! You fucking bitch! My father will kill you! He'll hand you over to our men and they'll fuck you until you die!"

"You can still talk," Rosetta says, "you there, do his feet."

Pasquale clamps his mouth shut, but they follow her orders.

"You know how infection works, don't you? Sooner enough you'll lose those limbs." She tells him politely.

"I'll die of shock. I'll die and you'll get nothing."

"You have other brothers. Another can easily take your place. If you speak, that might not happen," she lies, absently rubs the scar on her left hand.

"I don't care about them."

"That doesn't matter. We have time, lots of time. I'll leave you here to lose your limbs. Confess and we'll take off the nails, bring you to a hospital even."

"I don't believe you."

"You don't have to," she says this with a purposeful sigh as if she's fatally bored with what he has to say. It jars Pasquale, used to screaming demands, loud enough he can't hear himself. Right now, every thought echoes in the expanse of his head.

She stretches her limbs, turning to leave. "Tetsuya-san, give me reports of his health, will you? Every six hours. Tell me if he wants to confess."

Tetsuya nods, keeping a close eye to her face. She wonders what he wishes to see.

* * *

The car ride is quiet, stifling. Rosetta curls to herself, shoes kicked off and abandoned under the seat in front of her. She's leaning dangerously on the car door, a terrible habit she learned from rides with her brothers. It was a gift once, to watch the old city streets in Italy play out like a colorful movie reel. She tucks her small face between her palms, feeling sorry for herself.

"Stop that," Kyoya says, his small book is open in his palm. He doesn't even give her the dignity of eye contact.

"You were right all along," she whispers, almost to herself. "After we married. You told me that there was nothing to prevent the boss from torturing me to get what he wants. Well, he locked me up and hurt me for a while until he realized I was far more useful to be seen getting along with him."

She peeks at him, he's looking back again.

"You survived," he says.

"No, not really," Rosetta looks away. "The person who left his infamous camp differs from the one you married."

When she says this, it feels like a confession: "I had dreams sometimes, for you to whisk me away from your father."

"That's naïve of you," he looks as if he has something else to say, but he decides otherwise. And then: "Kusakabe said he made you cry today."

She blinks, straightening up. "Yeah."

He gives her another one of his strange looks. She seems to get a handful, most from behind her back, a few when he spends an hour in her company, always at the balcony. Most of the time she sits with her tea set, pouring over assignments or paperwork. Sometimes she borrows Rita's gaming console and messes up her virtual farm games. She always talks to fill up the silence. He always stands by the doors, never sits beside her like he did the first time, adamant to leave.

"Why?" He asks.

"Why all the sudden concern?" She smiles, bemused. "You care for me now?"

Kyoya scowls. Her lips twitch in a way it does before she laughs.

"He was acting nice, your retainer. It frustrated me to tears."

"You," Kyoya's eyebrows furrow. It's a good look on him. He is handsome this way. "You cried because he was nice?"

"Acting nice," Rosetta corrects. Her feet are cold now; she tucks her shoes back, wriggling her toes. She can see the house from here, cold and imposing and alone in the forestry that surrounds it. "Nobody is truly nice to me in your family, except for you."

"Ho? You're terrible at compliments."

She looks at him again, he's still staring.

"It's the truth." She stifles a yawn with a hand. If she doesn't sleep now, she'll have a headache tomorrow. "You've never given me false hope."

* * *

Rosetta and Tsuna are sitting outside the mansion's greenhouse, huddled together on wooden chairs. They stacked the table in front with notebooks and ledgers piled in a delicate balance. On the opposite table, the maids have left a tea set with select pieces of dessert. Reborn is lounging on a beanbag, glued to his phone, constantly eyeing her untouched scones. Leon is pointedly missing from his fedora, exploring the trays of baby coriander by the gardener's sprouting begonias.

"Do you understand, Sawada-san? Or are you just nodding because you're afraid I'll hit you?" She asks.

Tsuna pales. There are sweat stains on his shirt even though it's about twelve degrees outside. He wipes his face, shuddering. He wants to say something, she can see that, but his words are clogged pathetically around his throat before it can pour out in stammers.

Rosetta puts down her reading glasses, massages the bridge of her nose. She pushes her scones to Reborn, who takes one without looking.

"I made these ledgers when I was twelve," she says. "Sawada-san, you can't be a good boss if you don't know how to read reports."

"I don't want to be a mafia boss."

She smiles thinly. "We've had this conversation before. This is basic bookkeeping; we can start again from the beginning."

Reborn snorts by his perch. She sees a yellow butterfly fluttering by the roses. Leon shoots from between the thorns and swallows it whole without blinking. The lizard crawls back into the thick of the plants, in his element.

"Can we take a break?" Tsuna asks.

Rosetta agrees. "Might be good for both of us," she is starting to sound like a broken recorder. They've been going through the basics for a while. Tsuna is averse to studying anything with numbers; as if he's afraid they'll jump out of the paper and eat him alive.

Tsuna is still fidgeting. He's twisting his pen between his sweaty fingers. Rosetta can't stand to watch him like this anymore. "What the hell is it?"

"What?"

"What's distracting you," she taps the ledgers too casually. "You're a bad student, but not like this."

Tsuna looks at her as she shoves him a few pulls of tissue. He wipes his temples with it.

"Have you, killed anyone?" He suddenly asks.

Rosetta blinks, straightening up. She risks a glace at Reborn who doesn't seem to be listening to their conversation, but she's not one to assume. He knows already. He has her file in his head, flipping around it in his downtime to scour for weaknesses.

"No." Her face is an unreadable mask.

"Ah, so it possible." Tsuna looks relieved.

"You're wondering," Rosetta says slowly, "if it's possible to be in the mafia without killing anybody, with no one dying."

He nods.

"I had a dream last night," Tsuna says, looking away. "That Fuuta and I-pin and my mom were in trouble because of me. Because I'm supposed to be the tenth. I mean, It ends quite well. I save them of course. I realize it's a dream soon enough and I _save_ them. But what if I can't? What if they get hurt or worse..." he trails off.

Rosetta looks at Reborn for help. The hitman shrugs. "You're the tutor on duty," he says.

"Your mother, do you love her?" Rosetta asks, after a few seconds of silence.

"Of course!" Tsuna says.

"Will you die for her?"

Tsuna blinks, taken aback. "I'd do anything for my mother. She takes care of me, even if I'm Dame."

Rosetta nods. She doesn't think of her own mother.

"Do you think she'll be happy if you died for her?" She asks.

"No, of course not."

"Who is your best friend?" She asks, rolling her pen between her fingers.

"Gokudera and Yamamoto are my friends."

"You love them?"

"Yes."

"Will you die for them?" She continues, unfettered.

"Y-Yes."

"Do you think they'll be happy if you died for them?" She looks at Tsuna.

"They'll be devastated, I think."

By now Reborn is looking at her with curiosity.

"Will your friends die for you?"

"I –I don't think I understand where this is…"

"Will your friends die for you?" The pen rolls off her fingers, to the yellowing grass below.

"Yes, I think."

"Do you want them to die for you?"

"No!"

"Will you be happy if they died for you?"

"I love them. They're my friends. I won't."

"Will you stop them if they're about to sacrifice themselves for you?"

"Yes. Hibari-san, I–"

"What if you're not there? What if you're not fast enough? Strong enough?"

"I'll train. I'll become stronger, strong enough to protect everyone." Tsuna concludes. Reborn straightens from his beanbag.

Rosetta blinks at Tsuna, eyes blank. "That thought will kill you," she says. "Many circumstances are out of your control. Even if you think you know the field, your enemies will ensure that you don't." She's saying this without conviction, as if reciting something she's heard from someone's lips. "Terrible things will happen whether or not you want it. You _can't_ blame yourself for everything. Strength doesn't mean you'll have the power to save everyone."

Tsuna shuts his eyes and places a hand over his face. A butterfly lands in his teacup. When he glances at her again, he sees that she's looking at him, but not really. Rosetta's pale eyes seem to focus somewhere far. It bolsters him to speak his mind. "But that's only your opinion, isn't it? That doesn't mean it's true."

She blinks.

"Opinions are neither true nor false. Take what you will of my words." She steals the scone from Leon's mouth crumbles it, giving the lizard sizeable pieces to digest. "The mafia is a wolf pit."

"Funny," Tsuna laughs awkwardly, thankful that the conversation is done. "That's what Dino-san said too."

She clips her mouth shut. When she speaks, it almost comes out as a hiss: "don't trust him."

"What?"

She meets his eyes and Tsuna sees a blade of genuine worry beneath her impassive mask.

She takes a while to respond. When she does, her voice is serious. "Don't trust the Chiavarone boss."

"He's my friend," Tsuna says insistently. His brows are furrowed.

Rosetta opens her mouth and shuts it, slips off the chair when she sees Fusanosuke approach from afar with a phone on his hand. She glides her eyes to Reborn who is regarding her openly.

"Allies are not friends–"

"That's enough," Reborn cuts in. "This is none of your business, Hibari-chan."

She says nothing, although she looks disappointed. She excuses herself, brushes past the table and meets Fusanosuke by the rose bushes. She answers his flip phone, speaking in quiet tones.

"Dino-san is my friend, isn't he?" Tsuna asks Reborn while she's away.

"He's the only person we can trust in the mafia now." Reborn replies without thinking. "He is your ally and your friend."

Tsuna swallows. "What do you mean we? Are you hiding something from me?"

Reborn smirks, proud of his student.

"None that concerns you, Dame-Tsuna."

"It concerns me," Tsuna insists, panic blooms in him. "My life is on the line here!"

Reborn's smile slides off his face like water on rock. "Well, if you're ready to listen to my secret, then you're willing to accept the Vongola into your heart, won't you? It's principle," his tone sounds more mocking than he intended. It does its purpose though. Tsuna looks visibly pained. Good. Tsuna needs that edge. He needs a hammer to discard his training wheels as fast as his sanity can afford.

Rosetta doesn't take the stone path to them. She runs, hops over the begonias, heels knocking over a few pots that shatter upon contact.

Something's wrong.

"Somebody's been attacking disciplinary committee members," she says in clipped tones, piling up the ledgers up her arms. "Get in the house. We're on lockdown."

* * *

 **A Note to the Readers:** Again, I'd like to apologize for grammatical errors. English is not my mother tongue, but I'm trying hard.

If you have comments, suggestions or violent reactions. You know what to do! If you think you have any input that can improve this story, don't be afraid to say so too. Criticism precedes improvement!

My next update might not come so quick. I've been feeling a bit under the weather since yesterday. I think I have ** _The Flu_**. ,,,,,,,,(；´ﾟДﾟ)ゞ


	8. Rokudo Mukuro

**A Note to the Readers:** Did I say I was sick? Was I sick? _Was I sick?_ Turns out, ginger tea does its tricks. (ﾉ･_-)

I had a day off from school so I pretty much made this, and wow did this take a fraction of my day.

My thanks to: Devil's Blade for your continued support. WhiteDogwood for your kind words and Marie Yoshina for your enthusiasm!

EthnaG. Thanks for your medical knowledge. You are awesome.

I love writing this fic. I finally have something to think about when I commute to school.

 **Warnings!** There are some deaths in this chapter and plenty of violence! I mean it's freaking **Mukuro** we're talking about. The man is a criminal.

 **Canon Recap:** Also, for those who have forgotten about the Kokuyo Arc. Mukuro pretty much wants to take over Tsunayoshi's body to destroy the mafia (he's a good guy?) so he comes up with a convoluted plan to beat up Namimori students following Fuuta's ranking book, starting from the weakest. (he's a bad guy) He ends up beating the juice out of Kyoya and manages to trick everyone that he's Lancia so that Reborn wastes his dying will bullet on Tsunayoshi. It ends canonically with Tsunayoshi beating the juice out of him after Leon transforms him some fashionable gloves. (I'm saying this because I needed to reread that arc before I could start anything)

* * *

 **CHAPTER SEVEN**

 **Rokudo Mukuro**

* * *

The phone call comes an hour after Gokudera Hayato is pronounced hospitalized. Poison needles, hundreds around his shoulders, neck and the back of his head. He's alive, if barely, and the news brings Tsuna to his knees wheezing a cry of desperation Rosetta hopes she'll never hear out of her lips. Yamamoto Takeshi is hospitalized too, an animal attack apparently–no relation to the attack on Namimori. She's not fooled, nobody is.

Kyoya's number flashes before her eyes. She counts one and catches the dangerous flash of Reborn's eyes. She looks away. She counts two, her sight roaming around the equipment scattered in the living room. She shuts her eyes, breathes in, counts to three as she picks the phone up. They've been waiting for this. After Kyoya hunted after the criminals, they haven't received news of him.

 _"Hello darling,"_ the man on the phone says. He sounds smug.

"Who is this?"

He doesn't take the bait _. "I'm the man who has your husband,"_ he says, casually, voice silky smooth and confident. Rosetta nods visibly to Tetsuya who kneels by a large black box that's connected to her phone, tracing the call.

"Can I please speak to him?" The politeness comes out of nowhere, she wants to punch herself.

 _"I'm afraid he's busy."_

"I want to hear his voice," she says.

 _"I said he's busy."_

"I'm not talking until I hear him, alive." She persists, sitting down on a chair Reborn pushes to her. Good timing, her knees are weakening.

 _"Do you want him to die?"_

Rosetta shuts her eyes. It hurts her to say this: "if he dies then you lose your bargaining chip. Let me hear him."

She hears a scrape on the floor, metal against concrete. Footsteps. Five, ten, twenty. Harder footfalls, stairs perhaps, twelve steps. The screech of a collapsible metal door. Now there are distant voices. Rosetta looks at Reborn again who's listening in. They hear a boy chattering about the humidity. Someone, a girl, is singing Alouette in perfect French –a song about stripping a lark off its feathers.

She sucks in a breath, clings to that shred of hope.

Three thumps, like somebody punches a pillow.

Alouette stops. The French girl complains about the state of her hair.

 _"Your wife wants to speak to you."_ The voice is far away, like an afterthought. She's about to open her mouth when she realizes that the man is talking to Kyoya.

Another thump.

"Kyoya-san, you have to say something," Rosetta says.

Another thump. The man is probably kicking him. She bites back a curse.

"Kyoya-san, say something," She tries again, louder.

Another kick.

"Kyoya-san!"

 _"Fuck off."_

Never did she think she'd be happy to hear him curse. She smiles for a fraction of a second. Tetsuya shuts his eyes and fails to hide his stifled groan of relief.

 _"He's pretty much alive,"_ the voice hums _. "Do you know why I'm calling?"_

"You want money," Rosetta says, hoping it to be true.

 _"Now you're just being rude. I want the Vongola tenth."_

Her fingers squeeze the phone, the plastic creaks against the weight of her grip. She takes a breath in, avoids Tsuna's horrified face and meets Reborn's eyes.

Do it, Reborn signs.

Rosetta breathes out.

"When?"

 _"So obedient. You're so different from your husband, darling. Let me guess, he talks and you follow don't you?"_

"When?" she presses on.

 _"I'll meet him at Kokuyo Land tonight, alone. If he brings anyone, I'll kill this brat."_

"No," Rosetta says. "Someone needs to confirm his identity."

 _"You talked to him. Do you want him to scream for you? Do you want him to–"_

"This isn't how a tradeoff works," although her voice is low, it is strung with adrenaline. Tetsuya is giving her a wide-eyed look, hands around his earphones. He doesn't like where this is going.

"Someone needs to be there to confirm that he is who you say he is. That he is in one piece."

She hears a thump, someone hacks, vomits. It's Kyoya. She hopes the man can't hear her heartbeat, because by now it's all that she hears.

 _"No."_

"Please," she croaks. Polite again, fuck.

Another thump. Rosetta shuts her eyes.

 _"Then our deal is off."_

"Goodbye." She's supposed to hang-up, but she finds that she can't. She's pressing the phone to her ear, desperate to hear Kyoya again. She hears someone whisper over the phone, a new voice, but it's too quiet to discern words.

 _"It has to be you,"_ the voice croons, changes gear. _"Deliver the Vongola tenth to me."_

Her stomach drops. She can't. She can't put her life at risk, not like this. Ryuusei will skin her. He'll cut off her legs to prove a point.

"Kyoya-san has retainers. I can't–"

The line dies, cuts off.

"Call him again," Rosetta stammers, when she speaks again, it's louder. She's in panic. "Tetsuya-san! Call him again!"

"Calm down," Reborn takes the receiver from her hand. "He's bluffing."

The phone rings once, twice, every second unanswered taken by her heart like the sound of a bomb ticking down to zero.

The music that greets them is a scream that shakes her to her bones. Namimori's king dragged from his throne. She wants to crawl through the phone and kill the man behind it.

 _"Do you know how hard it was to make him scream? Poor little man."_ The man chuckles _. "Humans are like bags of blood, poke them too much and they'll drain like–"_

"Enough," Reborn says.

 _"Giving the phone to someone else? I won't talk to anyone else. Rosetta-chan? Darling. Sweetheart, are you there?"_

"I'm here," Rosetta says, she the phone back to her hand.

 _"I want you to visit me. I want to see the face behind that lovely voice."_

Her words clog in her throat.

"Of course. I will. I'll come."

 _"Your men will stay in Namimori. I'll know if they'll follow to my territory. I'll know it."_

"Of course."

The man in the phone chuckles, she can almost feel the vibrations in his chest.

 _"Remember, Kokuyo land, just before the sun's down."_

"Please," her voice wobbles, it almost sounds too real to be counterfeit. She has to try something, appeal to the kidnapper's superiority even, if it gives her a better chance of seeing Kyoya whole again. She's seen the work of abductors. She's seen the work of Ryuusei. "Don't hurt him. He's my life."

It's partly true. Ryuusei will inflict horrors upon her. She's seen the quality of handiwork for cheaper trespasses.

The man laughs earnestly. _"You have my word. Ken, stop twisting his arm."_

She presses her knuckles against her lips, muffles a shaky breath.

 _"He's safe as a baby now. I'll see you tonight."_

The phone clicks. Rosetta's arm falls limp before she screams and throws the receiver on the marble floor.

* * *

Rosetta is leaning against the toilet, vomiting her breakfast. Rita is holding her hair up, making soothing bird noises, face stuck in a helpful expression. When her stomach has nothing else to spare, she drowns a glass of water and repeats the entire process again. She wipes her sweat with the back of her hand. She feels disgusting, smells disgusting.

The bathroom door opens, and she sees Tsuna, standing awkwardly by the frame, casting a worried glance at her.

She gestures for him to get out with a wave of her hand. Irrationally, some part of her is angry at him. It wasn't Byakuran they had to watch out for anyway. It was the Vongola and their damn blood feuds.

Tsuna doesn't move.

"Give me some privacy, will you?" She throws a roll of tissue at him to Rita's displeasure. "I'll come out. Just give me a minute."

Rosetta's done the rational thing and called the boss immediately after the exchange has been set. Ryuusei was calm about the entire ordeal, but that was never an indicator of what he thought.

One thing struck her.

 _"My dear, I appreciate you calling me, but please, don't be lazy, you know what to do,"_ he said. _"I'll be there as soon as I can."_

You know what to do.

What is right, what is logical, what is correct. Hand Tsuna over and then destroy them when Kyoya is safe. Let the boss deal with the political aftermath. She likes Tsuna, almost wishes they were friends.

The man on the phone might hand her a corpse for a friend though. The man on the phone might do what he promises and she can bring her husband home. But that means handing Tsuna over. Not that Reborn would allow her. Or would he? He signed to her. Willing to give his pupil over.

The roll of tissue slams into Tsuna's torso, then it rolls down, unfurling itself. But he remains, looking at her with a sorry expression that makes her want to hit him. His hands are shaking.

"Rita, fetch me water, please. Sawada-san, come here."

"Hibari-san…"

"Don't call me–" she puts a hand over her hair. "Come here, you oaf, and close that damn door."

Tsuna sits beside her on the cold tiles as she kicks the flush, leaning against the pristine tiles behind her.

"I lied to you," she says, voice softening, rubbing her eyes in frustration. The confession feels heavy in her tongue. "I lied to you. Yesterday, you asked if I killed anybody."

Tsuna's brown eyes widen. "It doesn't matter," he says, but he sounds uncertain.

"I said it because I wanted you to like me better," she continues on, shaken. "I wanted to have friends, someone who won't betray me eventually, like Tetsuya-san. Someone who's not a civilian, like Kurokawa-san, Sasagawa-san or that Miura girl they keep trying to introduce to me. You were convenient and I don't want to give you away because –because shit!" She kicks the empty trashcan beside the toilet, it clatters like thunder. She curses again and then heaves before she folds her legs against her torso.

"But you're already my friend," Tsuna mumbles. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket and hands it to her. She pushes it away vehemently. It would be easier if Tsuna is like her. There are many people like Rosetta, but not enough like Tsuna.

"I know you think I am," she admits. "That's why it's so infuriating to be around you."

Tsuna leaves the handkerchief perched above her knee. He mirrors her position. If he looks up, he can see a window leading to the outside where the sun is at its brightest. "I also want to save Hibari-san."

"Are you asking me to hand you away? Are you really that obtuse?"

Tsuna is silent. "I–"

"Don't answer that," Rosetta murmurs, face still buried on the crook of her arm. "I don't want to give you away. I'm not the boss. I'm not my husband."

"That's good," Reborn's voice echoes in the bathroom. Rosetta's head snaps up as Tsuna lets out a squeal of terror. The hitman is by the small window. Leon is oddly missing from his fedora. "I received a call from the ninth. He heard about everything. You don't have to drag Tsuna there."

"Oh," Tsuna sags against the tiles, relieved.

"He's coming willingly." There is a curl on Reborn's lip. "This is an order from the ninth, Tsuna. Your mission is to defeat the ringmaster and you're doing it alone."

* * *

"How is Pasquale?" Rosetta is on the backseat of a Maserati, leaning heavily against the door. There's a folder on her lap, pictures of Mukuro Rokudo, Ken Joshima, Chikusa Kakimoto spread before her. More photos under the initial pile, M.M., Birds, a pair of scarred twins. Criminals. Jail escapees from Vendicare. M.M. is a parole runaway, caught by the whirlwind of Mukuro's charm.

Ryuusei will have a field day when he finds out.

The retainer beside her gives her an odd look. She doesn't know his name although she knows he's good friends with Fusanosuke.

"You're–" Fusanosuke stiffens, his hands white on the steering wheel, "you're worried about that?"

"I asked you a question," Rosetta takes the photo of Mukuro and memorizes his features. Black hair, tanned skin, darker eyes. There are two marks on his left cheek, claw marks or bad tattoos.

"He's losing it. The men have put him under complete darkness," says the retainer. She remembers his name, Benjiro.

"Give him light, ten seconds. Just enough for him to see the infection," she says. Pasquale didn't have enough imagination for her to use. She pities him.

Rosetta puts a hand to her ear, pressing on the concealed earpiece. She hears Tsuna's distant voice. He's on another vehicle.

"Sawada-san, are you there?"

 _"Y-yeah."_

She observes the photos once more. "Tell me a story, will you?" She asks Tsuna.

 _"A story? What kind?"_

"Something nice. Something I don't know."

 _"Have you heard of Momotarō?"_ Tsuna asks after a while. Rosetta can hear his driver's snort from afar. She has heard of that story a few times already, translated it even when she tried to learn Japanese.

"Who the heck is Momotarō?" She asks, grinning.

Tsuna sighs _. "Okay, so… there's this woodsman, right? He has a wife that wanted kids but–"_

She fiddles with the earpiece, making it so that she can hear Tsuna, but he can't hear her.

Fusanosuke drives further to the outskirts of Namimori. There's a small rocky ledge on the left of the road, wide enough for their convoy. He turns the Maserati, frowning as small loose rocks thrash on the underside of the car. Rosetta takes a map from the glove compartment as they park by a copse of trees. The car slows into a stop. The engine dies to a low hum.

"This is the nearest we can go to Kokuyo, any further and we'll trespass," Fusanosuke explains. Outside she sees the other cars lining up. Tsuna's hair is visible from two vehicles in front of her.

When Rosetta doesn't answer, Fusanosuke sighs, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "May I speak plainly, ma'am?"

"If it's important."

"I don't think this is the best plan."

She smiles wryly. She went through many possible scenarios with Reborn. This is the best plan.

"Why?" She asks.

"We're putting Rita in danger. You said this Rokudo Mukuro is powerful enough to know if we trespass to Kokuyo–"

"He is a powerful mist user," she cuts in.

"I still don't understand that part," Fusanosuke says. Rosetta's polite smile is glued to her face. If he doesn't understand what a mist user is, he should shut his mouth. "I think he'll figure out that Rita isn't you and–"

"He won't," Rosetta says. "Rita volunteered to take my place. The caller doesn't know my face. He said so."

"Ma'am–"

"If you have nothing else to say, please, shut up."

Tsuna is now mumbling about Momotarō's political successes. She's not sure if that's part of the story.

"Stay in the car," Rosetta orders as she opens the door and climbs out of the car to Benjiro's surprise.

They can't hear this one. She takes her phone and pretends to call Ryuusei as the same hand fiddles with her earpiece until she hears Reborn's slight humming.

"Are you in position?" Rosetta asks, idly scanning the greenery. Most of the men are out now, cataloging gun inventory. A few salutes to her.

 _"One point seven miles from the park,"_ Reborn says. _"I'm in position."_

"And Tetsuya-san?"

She hears a muffled complaint and the sound of the radio being passed over. Tetsuya sounds overtired. " _I can see Kokuyo Land with my binoculars,"_ he murmurs.

"Can you see me?" Rosetta puts a hand up and pretends to stretch.

 _"That waving target? Yes."_ Tetsuya confirms. _"You're as small as an ant."_

Rosetta sweeps her eyes over to the Maserati, where Fusanosuke and Benjiro are in deep conversation, to the craggy hill on the other side of the highway. The vegetation above is windswept and twisted from malnutrition. Tetsuya and Reborn are huddled together, the hitman wielding a sniper rifle with his single dying will bullet in his arsenal. They have one bullet left. They only have one shot. Reborn hid this information from her men, he doesn't trust them enough. They think Tetsuya is up there, alone in the bushes as their lookout.

"Hey, what if Sawada-san enters a building?" She asks. "What if you can't get a clear sight of him?"

Reborn is quiet for a second. _"I'm the best hitman in Italy,"_ he hisses, annoyed. _"Put your concerns where it matters, Hibari-chan."_

"That's Sawada-san versus eight assassins."

 _"Let's hope it doesn't come to that, besides, Leon is coming with them."_

She doesn't know how Leon can help, now that the lizard has lost its morphing abilities, but she keeps her mouth shut.

The plan is simple. Once Rita secures Kyoya, Reborn will shoot Tsuna with the bullet and he should be able to stall the enemies before the stationed men can arrive to secure the area. Rita's job is to ensure Kyoya's survival, even at the cost of her own life.

Rosetta shuts her eyes.

"Reborn-san, this is only for your ears, is there any way to shut Tetsuya-san out?" She asks, hearing Tetsuya's indignant scoff at the request. But she hears rustling anyway as if the man has crawled away for their privacy.

 _"He's gone,"_ Reborn says.

"Listen," Rosetta begins, pressing her lips against her knuckles, "If things go wrong… If Kyoya-san dies... Please, please, please run away with Sawada-san." If it sounds like begging, she doesn't care. "And you have to take Tetsuya-san with you. Convince him to run. He's good at a lot of things and he can be loyal. The boss –Hibari-san will kill him."

Reborn says nothing at first. Distantly, she hears the wavering disembodied voice of Tsuna reaching the conclusion of the story. Momotarō returns to his hometown after freeing the prisoners. They defeat the devils. They plunder their treasures. The townspeople celebrate their return, hail him as their hero.

Her nails bite into her palm, deep enough to be painful. It's stupid to have asked….

 _"All right,"_ Reborn concedes. _"But I'll doubt he'll listen."_

"Oh, God. Thank you." When Rosetta says this, it occurs to Reborn that he has never heard her speak so honestly.

"I wish you were half as afraid as I am," Tsuna tells her after she finds him curled up in the backseat of a Mercedes. He is right, but there's so much steel holding her upright. Being Kyoya's wife should shy her away from that kind of weakness. She tries not to think about the fact that he might already be dead. Fusanosuke stands persistently at her side, scouring the mountains for imagined snipers. He leaped out of the car when it became evident that she isn't planning to stay in one place.

"What good would that do?" Rosetta says, not unkind. She looks up. The sky is darkening, the soft orange of the sun leeching into the horizon. "The sun is setting. It's a fifteen-minute walk. Come on up, Sawada-san."

She slots their fingers so Tsuna would follow. He has no choice. Reborn informed him he'll be shot if he runs. It's a bluff, but Tsuna trusts the assassin enough to take him seriously.

Tsuna is visibly trembling when Rita drifts to them. She's wearing one of Rosetta's dresses, mint green that clashes with her hair.

"Ma'am," Rita says, and it sounds like a goodbye.

"Don't die, Rita," Rosetta swallows. She wants to drag her close into a hug, but she cannot. If Rita dies because of loyalty, then the Hibari clan will repay her family for generations. The Hibari takes cares for its own. There is no guarantee that Ryuusei will take action if the maid perishes for something as fickle as affection. Loyalty is the grease that makes the Yakuza work.

Rita bows deeply.

Tsuna though, she can afford to embrace Tsuna. She fists a hand around the back of Tsuna's dress shirt and feels the shaking curvature of his spine. Her other hand she clamps on the back of his head, pushing him closer to her.

"It will be fine," she whispers to his ear as a promise. "It will be okay."

* * *

Tsuna and Rita are barely through the gates of Kokuyo Land, having gone there by foot when Fusanosuke turns to Rosetta and points a gun at her head.

"Fusanosuke, what the fu–"

Benjiro slams his hand against the side of her face. She screams. He presses the bulk of his weight against her so she's flat on the backseat. He handcuffs her as she tries to reach for the door. He takes her phone. Smashes it with his foot as his large fingers dig out her earpiece.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," Fusanosuke says when Rosetta is hauled by her hair to sit. She tries to kick Benjiro, but he catches her ankle and punches her face. Something snaps. Her nose, most likely.

"Please stop struggling," Fusanosuke starts the engine. The Maserati hums.

"Where are you taking me?" Rosetta tilts her chin up and swallows blood. She curses, pressing her back against the leather. Benjiro is pointing a gun at her neck.

"Kokuyo Land, ma'am."

"You're going to honor a kidnapper's demands?" Blood drips down on her white blouse. The car drives out of the parked convoy, a few confused retainers chase after them, but Benjiro halts their efforts with a few words on her earpiece. They'll kill her if they interfere. Well. Fuck.

"I'm sorry, I really am," Fusanosuke says. "They took Keito this morning. They'll return him safe with your exchange."

Keito, the love of his life.

"Your fuckbuddy?" Rosetta raises her eyebrows, but he doesn't take the bait. The car speeds up, greenery rushes pass them.

"It's going to be fine ma'am. Rokudo Mukuro wants you alive–"

"So he can hand me over to the Gesso. They're likely paying him by the millions." Rosetta's fingers reach the hem of her sleeve. She finds the hidden lock pick, almost by habit. "It's okay." She quiets down, staring at Fusanosuke with wide honest eyes through the mirror. "You don't have to justify yourself. I'm willing to sacrifice a friend for my husband. I have no right to judge you."

Fusanosuke's eyes are large from the rearview mirror.

Rosetta sneers. "You thought I'd actually say that? Fuck you. You won't get away with this. You should have said something! I would have helped you, Fusanosuke!"

"Should I shut her up?" Benjiro asks. Rosetta rolls her eyes. She gets another punch for that, her teeth clatter. She bites the inside of her cheek.

Fusanosuke's knuckles whiten against the steering wheel.

"I don't believe you ma'am."

"What?" She peers at him, dizzy.

"I don't believe you'll help me."

She looks down, feigning the loss of defiance. Or at least she thinks she is. Bitterness coils inside the pit of her stomach like an angry serpent. She nearly let go of the pick from the last punch. She doesn't want to risk it again.

It's a short drive to Kokuyo Land. She can see the derelict buildings from here, old white, jutting out from the forest like pillars of an old god. Fusanosuke's attention is divvied between the road and her bleeding face. He takes a call from a phone she doesn't recognize.

"Yes," he says, "thirty armed men stationed outside and one on the hill. Yes. He's not a fighter, not really. Unarmed–"

* * *

The world slows down.

Fusanosuke is still speaking but Rosetta stops listening, working on the lock. Benjiro is staring intently at her face. She shuts her eyes, concentrates, swishes the cocktail of blood and spit under her tongue. She swallows. The drive is short. She hears the car slow to a stop. The front door opens, then the one she's leaning on. Fusanosuke drags her up by the arm and frogmarches her forward. It's hard with her eyes closed. Her feet scrape against the rubble, pebbles stick between her shoes and her socks.

She opens her eyes, sees Tsuna's horrified face looking at her. Rita is beside him, clutching at his hand. Leon is nowhere to be seen. She looks away, sees Rokudo Mukuro emerge from the front of a glass dome, overgrown with moss and vines. She knows it's him because of the scars on the side of his face, lit aglow with the dying sun. He's clapping. Fucking bastard.

Benjiro raises his gun and shoots Rita twice in the stomach. She drops to the rubble, tears her finger from Tsuna's grasp.

"Sawada-san, look at me!" Rosetta yells. Her voice echo in the empty buildings, just like the gunshots. "Look at me!"

Tsuna rips his empty gaze from Rita's body and meets her eyes, alight with fury.

"It's not your fault!" She says. Fusanosuke is dragging her forward. She's not putting much power in her struggles. "It's not your fault."

"This is adorable," Mukuro is grinning, approaching them. He's holding a weapon, a large metal ball suspended from a chain wrapped around his wrists.

Tsuna looks away, to Mukuro, and the world tilts as he collapses, as the dying-will-bullet embeds to his skull, forcing a chain reaction of flames and rage.

Fusanosuke loosens his grip, eyes up to the metallic flash in the mountains.

"There's a sniper in the–"

He doesn't finish his sentence because Rosetta barrels headfirst to his ribs. He stumbles back and falls to the floor, balance gone. She rips the handcuffs off, conjures a gun with her flames and points to Fusanosuke. She hesitates. Bullets whiz past her. Rosetta does a textbook roll and shoots the Benjiro thrice before Tsuna crashes into her.

"What the fuck!" She screams as they drag across the debris. Her palms split open. Broken cola bottles.

Mukuro is stalking towards them, swinging his weapon as they grasp their bearings.

"Run!" Tsuna barks, leaving a trail of dust as he leaps towards Mukuro, his forehead on fire. Rosetta summons her gun, wet with blood and shoots Fusanosuke before he has time to aim, a bullet in the stomach. Two down. She tries to shoot Mukuro and gives up immediately. Moving target. She might shoot Tsuna. She's not practiced enough.

She makes a run to Benjiro's squirming body and rips his earpiece off, shooting his face when he makes a grab for her.

"I'm safe! I need reinforcements!"

She hears an explosion through the earpiece. A screech, like a clarinet, screaming. A howl? An animal? They're busy. _"Ma'am, we're under fire!–"_

Rosetta takes cover behind an upturned water tank, fiddling with the earpiece.

"Reborn-san!" She grits out.

 _"We'll be there in ten!"_ It's Tetsuya who replies. Rosetta clutches her gun, warm with her blood. A lot can happen in ten minutes. A lot can–

She sees movement. Someone's climbing the glass observatory directly where Mukuro was. She has no misconceptions about her fighting ability. She's as good as a civilian and by this point, she's already bleeding, slowed down by pain and terror. "There's –there's someone climbing the glass building," she says. Her hands are shaking.

 _"Stay put. Find somewhere safe and hide."_ Tetsuya hisses.

"He's gonna help Mukuro," Rosetta says. "I have to stop him."

 _"Do you want to get killed? Stay down!"_

Tsuna screams over the distance between them. He's in pain.

"I'm sorry, Tetsuya-san," she says, leaping over the water tower. Tetsuya curses, but she keeps the earpiece on. The enemy can't spot her from where she is, hidden behind the pile of white tiles beneath the back entrance. Most of the dome's metal frames are exposed. Skeletal remains, eaten by time. She grips one, feels wetness in her palms and climbs up, ready to conjure a gun before she reaches the top.

 _"Are you trying to prove something?"_ Tetsuya says after he's done cursing. She doesn't reply. But he's right. This is about differing from Ryuusei who wouldn't give a damn if his life was in danger. It's about apologizing to Tsuna because he's her goddamn friend. It's about hurting Mukuro because he has the gall to use Kyoya, her husband, as _leverage_.

Rosetta remembers the first time she shot a gun, a hunting rifle at nine years old, against a flock of doves freed by her father's servants. She shot two that day and stayed awake for the entire evening, wondering what it will feel like to kill a human being.

The rifle materializes out of her flames as she emerges from the lip of the dome. The man on the building seizes when he hears her load the gun. He slowly puts up his hands, abandoning his own rifle. He's short and old, wearing a bucket hat and round spectacles. Two yellow canaries are perched on his shoulder.

"Where is my husband?" Rosetta snarls, possessive.

The man, Birds, smiles an oily smile. "I wouldn't–"

She aims her gun down and shoots. The canaries flee. He falls to his back, clutching a leg, breathing hard on his lips. She approaches him warily. Most of the glass panels lining the floor are broken. A fall would be deadly.

"Where is he?" she asks again. Tetsuya curses in her ears.

"Bowling area!" He hisses. "There's a backdoor. He's tied up–"

Rosetta doesn't show how relieved she is. The bowling area is connected to the dome. She can easily reach him… and then… and then what?

"How many are you in here?"

Birds curses. He takes a knife from his belt and tries to slash her legs when she stands near enough. Rosetta's not stupid. She puts a bullet on his other thigh.

He cries and folds like a piece of paper, clutching at the holes on his legs. His face is reddening.

"How many are you in here?"

"Mukuro-sama, me, the twins… the others have already killed your peopl–"

He folds back flat when she puts a bullet through his head. The canaries, now unafraid, fly to his body and tuck themselves inside the pockets of his vest. She carefully makes her way to Bird's mounted rifle. Tsuna is still fighting, but he looks like he's losing. She dismisses her own gun and kneels heavily on the glass. Maybe she can shoot Mukuro this way. But they're moving quickly, like tiny bolts of lightning. Rosetta wipes the sweat from her brow and looks through the scope, her finger on the trigger.

Tsuna is bleeding heavily from a head injury, but his flame is strong. Mukuro swings his weapon. The metal ball nearly crushes Tsuna, but he flips in time, swinging a punch. It doesn't connect. Tsuna crashes through a window.

It's her time.

Rosetta sweeps the scope to Mukuro's direction. In doing so, she passes by Benjiro's body, Rita's prone form and the blood smear where Fusanosuke is supposed to be.

"Ma'am, let go of the rifle."

Rosetta stiffens.

Fusanosuke, bleeding heavily in the stomach, is standing where she killed Birds. He points the gun up the darkening sky and shoots a warning shot. Rosetta doesn't flinch. She stands slowly, puts her hands above her head and turns to him, trying to mind where she's standing. He gestures to the weapon by her feet. She kicks it off the ledge.

She keeps on finding herself in poetic situations.

"We're there in two minutes, ma'am," a voice says in her ear. "We've disposed of the enemy."

He points his gun at her face.

"I'm unarmed, Fusanosuke," she says, calmly.

"Are you?" He asks, dizzy with pain, his face blue from blood loss. "How the fuck… I guess –God the rumors are true. You make shit appear from thin air. You monsters… I just want Keito back."

Oh no, she thinks, he's going to shoot me. He will shoot me.

"I want Kyoya-san back too. We're the exact same people. We're willing to do anything for our loved ones. We can talk this out."

"Loved ones," he laughs. "He doesn't love you. I've seen how he treats you."

"That may be so," she says, patiently. "But I care for him. You've been with me every morning, Fusa. Please, we can talk. Put the gun down."

"So you conjure another pistol and shoot me again?" The gun trembles in his hand. "They said I could kill you, that they'll protect us. But I didn't fucking want to. You're actually nice, you know? But then you–God." He doesn't look away. The trembling stops. The last light of the sun flickers out.

"Ma'am I'm so sorry."

Rosetta throws herself to the panels below her. It gives out. She falls. The world shakes her with shattered glass. She crashes arm first on a stack of potted plants, dead from exposure. Glass rains down and slices her cheek, her arms and her legs. Pain travels in bright pins, across her ribs. She screams. Curses. Tetsuya is saying something in her ear. She can't hear it. The pain so blinding that she wishes for oblivion.

But fuck, she's _alive._

She looks up. Impossibly high is Fusanosuke looking down at her, head bathed in the cheap light outside. He's yelling something, but she can't parse the words. He aims his gun and shakily shoots twice, thrice. No bullets hit her. Lucky. She's actually lucky. Rosetta laughs at him, her mouth full of blood. If she survives this…. If she survives….

Fusanosuke leaves, perhaps to find another way in.

Breathing hurts, doing anything hurts. But she needs to buy time. She needs to move, she needs to run. There is no dignity in dying. Rosetta rolls to her knees, on all fours. She plucks away the piece of glass jutting between her knuckles and laughs again, delirious with pain. Fuck. Bowling room. Kyoya-san. She needs to get there. Now.

There's a lot of glass and the worst ones seem to be under her feet. Her heart is beating so fast it might burst. It's cold. She doesn't really know where her feet take her. The pain is overwhelming. She's going to die. She's going to die alone.

"What are you doing here?" Kyoya is standing by an open door. He's angry. His uniform is askew and his hair is matted with dried blood. Bruises bloom like flowers around his chin, his neck.

"Kyoya-san," she breathes, waking up. She reaches out to him, makes a grab for his shirt. She stains it red. She swallows, there's a lump her throat. It stings. Tears blur her vision.

Kyoya fists the collar of her shirt and forces her to sit behind a slab of marble. The glass beneath her skin shifts painfully at the impact.

"Stop crying," he orders, curling his injured hand against her cheek, smearing off tears, opening a cut beneath her eye. His palm is rough, adds to the multitude of stinging in her body. The hand disappears, his knuckles lift her chin. "Why are you here?" He sounds annoyed to have asked again. Despite the tears, she cracks a grin. It's so genuinely him.

"Fusanosuke is working for the Gesso," she croaks. Her ribs feel like they're on fire. "He took me. Reinforcements are coming. I –uh. Sawada-san is fighting Mukuro."

The last phrase lights something in his eyes, she wishes she can do that. Make him light up with something, anything aside from the glow of his low thrumming irritation.

"Stay here," he orders, looking away, to the exit. There's the sound of a man walking towards them, kicking the broken pottery.

A strangled whimper tears its way from her throat. He just told her to stop crying. But tears fill her eyes again despite that. "You can't. Fusa has a gun. Mukuro is–" she feels stupid saying this. Seeing him, at home under all that blood and hurt, he's in his element. He isn't going to listen to her.

Kyoya looks at her oddly.

"Guns never stopped me," he says.

The noise again. Fusanosuke is calling her name.

Kyoya stands. He takes a step as if leaving and pauses. His school jacket is drenched with blood, but it's all he has. He shrugs it off and throws it at Rosetta who doesn't quite catch it and leaves.

Rosetta sighs. She takes the uniform with stiff fingers, pulls it over her body. An unwelcome chill has settled in her marrow. Persistent. She's sweating somehow, despite the weather. She doesn't think she's lost a lot of blood. But it's cold anyway. The jacket doesn't smell like Kyoya –mud and iron sewn between the thread. Not unpleasant. Just odd. It's not like she knows what he smells like.

 _"Ma'am, where are you?"_

 _"Rosetta-san, we're here! Where are you?"_

She murmurs. A gunshot echoes. A scream. Not Kyoya. Good. She can't open her eyes anymore.

 _"Rosetta-san! Your location, please… Rosetta-san!"_

* * *

Rosetta doesn't wake up with a jolt. Her senses come to her slowly, her hearing, her smell, her sight and last, her sense of touch. Breathing out is agony. It's too bright, so she shuts her eyes. She wriggles her toes. All ten present. She fidgets her fingers. All ten present. She's under a warm blanket, thick and smelling rich of the fabric softener Rita likes to complain about.

She opens her eyes eventually. She's on a different room at the household, one with a larger window. It's dark outside; a maple branch extends to the glass as if waving. She sees other beds, empty aside from the one farthest to her. Occupied by a grunt who has his face blown off, he's attached to a heart monitor.

Rosetta thinks about the men she's killed. And Rita, poor Rita. She should have been nicer. She should have been… Rosetta sobs dryly until the house doctor, Iwasaki-sensei, flits to her bedside.

"It's okay, dear. It's okay," Iwasaki sings, brushing a hand through Rosetta's clean hair.

"What day is it?" Rosetta asks, her throat is achingly dry. Iwasaki props her up quickly and places a small glass of water by her lips, allows her to drink slowly.

"It's been a few hours," Iwasaki's voice is annoying gentle. Rosetta wants to ask so many questions. But she's so tired. She can see Kyoya's school jacket on the foot of her bed, folded neatly.

"Sawada-san is…"

"Alive," Iwasaki assures her. "They're all alive. Rita is at the hospital though, but she stabilized an hour ago."

The relief nearly brings tears to her eyes. Tsuna won. _Tsuna won!_ And Rita isn't dead. Iwasaki laughs at her face.

"I've never seen you so emotional." The doctor admits.

"Hopefully, you won't see it again," Rosetta hiccups, but she's grinning.

"It's not such a bad thing. We should be more honest about ourselves."

"How about Kyoya-san, how is he?"

Iwasaki smiles indulgently. "It was terribly romantic," she swoons in the way she does when she talks about her romance novels. She sways dreamily. "After they defeated Mukuro, Hibari-san went out of his way to retrieve you, you were unconscious."

"He did?"

"Yes! It nearly took an hour."

Rosetta blinks.

That's… wrong. The oddity of it sinks down the pit of her stomach. Kyoya would know where she is…

"He looked for me?" Rosetta repeats. Her relief transmutes to worry.

"Mmhm," Iwasaki says. "I was there," she taps her dimpled chin with a clean finger, eyes twinkling. "After the battle, he looked for you everywhere and carried you out of the glasshouse. Kusakabe-san was speechless." The doctor makes a grand show of carrying someone with her arms. "We also found another hostage, a little boy. He's at the hospital too."

Rosetta rips the blanket off her torso, swinging her legs out of the bed. It rips something in her waist. Sure enough, dampness blooms around her stomach.

"What's wrong?" Iwasaki puts gentle hands on Rosetta's shoulders as the girl tries to stand. Rosetta pushes her off and tries again. She gets it on the fourth try. The soles of her feet hurt upon pressure. Glass must have gotten in there too. She takes a step, two steps, five, until she's sure she can _run._

"Where's Kyoya-san?" Rosetta leans heavily on a side table filled with medical paraphernalia. _"Where is he?"_

She needs to call the boss. She needs to do something…

Iwasaki purses her lips, shifts her glasses so Rosetta doesn't see her eyes.

"Hibari-san," she berates Rosetta. "You're my patient. You should stay in bed–"

"I'm your superior," Rosetta leans in, voice a slow hiss. "Bring me to my husband or I'll have you fired." She knows Iwasaki needs her job. The doctor's parents are both hospitalized, and the fees are enormous. Iwasaki is barely scraping by.

"It's my duty as your doctor to–"

"I'll find someone else to help me!"

"Okay! Okay! I will!"

"Bring your gun." Rosetta looks visibly pained as Iwasaki hands her a crutch.

"I don't have a gun," Iwasaki says quickly.

Rosetta rolls her eyes. God, her face hurts. "Don't lie. You have grenades in _this._ " She shakes the bedside table. "I need a gun."

"Can't you create one? The men said you're like the boss. You can–"

Rosetta doesn't have a lot of patience when there's pain involved. Plus, Iwasaki is reminding her of Fusanosuke.

"Do you trust me, Iwasaki-sensei?"

Iwasaki doesn't pause.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Don't call me that," Rosetta blinks. Too much like Fusanosuke. "Call me Hibari-san."

She brings the men outside the infirmary with her, along with Iwasaki, the doctor's gun tucked heavily in the hem of her pants. She's frowning when the men lead her to the dining room. Kyoya is there, leaning against the wall. Tsuna is cocooned around a blanket, a butterfly stitch on his forehead to close the gash, he's half asleep. Tetsuya is kneeling beside Tsuna, a tea set in front of him, reporting committee business to Kyoya

The worst part of the picture is Leon. He's on the table, morphing his shape uncontrollably. Reborn is beside the lizard, taking notes.

 _'Leon only turns like this when my students are about to face something life-changing.'_ Reborn said this yesterday, under the warmth of the sun, in between Tsuna's hysterics.

Kyoya peels out of the wall, arms folded around his torso. Tetsuya sits up, but Rosetta stops him with a wave of her hand. He leans back, annoyed.

"What are you doing? You should be in bed," Kyoya says, cold. Nothing seems to be off.

Rosetta smiles despite herself. "I just wanted to see if you're all right."

Iwasaki sends her strange looks.

"I'm fine," Kyoya snaps. She doesn't really realize he's scowling now that it's gone. But she can't point fingers yet.

He was barely standing straight when she saw him at Kokuyo Land, although that might have been her imagination. Right now, Kyoya is nearly immaculate.

"I'm convinced." Rosetta shrugs, looking away. "I'm sorry. I panicked. I was just worried, you know," then she smiles, all teeth, she even squints. She's practiced this smile. It's the sweetest one in her arsenal. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No," Kyoya says, waving her off with a hand. "Go back to sleep."

"But I cooked something for you. It should be in the fridge."

Kyoya's face remains impassive before the corner of his lip lifts into a smile that sends her stomach plummeting.

"If you insist, I'll have someone send it in my room."

The crutch falls as Rosetta takes the gun from her back and points it at his face. The retainers freeze, unsure of what to do. Tetsuya is up, yelling at her. Tsuna is on his feet too.

"Kyoya-san hates my cooking," Rosetta snarls, voice loud against the commotion. "He doesn't eat anything I make him."

Kyoya's face pinches in annoyance. She knows that look. For a second she's afraid she's made a grave mistake. That her anxiety is merely a manifestation of what happened in Kokuyo Land. That she has gone nuts. That he actually wants to eat her cooking. Tetsuya wrestles the gun out of her grip and unloads it. Bullets fall.

Kyoya's face splits into a smile.

"What a shame," he says. His right eye glows red. "I couldn't take over Tsunayoshi because of that damn Arcobaleno. You'd notice, would you? That dying-will-bullet was a big surprise, just like your involvement." He refers to Reborn who frowns. "So I took this one instead. Friendless and heartless… alone in this cruel world."

Rokudo Mukuro meets her eyes. "I didn't think you'd call me out so soon, darling." He purrs.

* * *

 **A Note to the Readers:**... *runs off*＼\٩( 'ω' )و /／

I think Kyoya is going to steal the spotlight on the next chapter.

See you all in a handful of days. I hoped you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! If you have comments or suggestions you can always leave a message below!


	9. Hibari Kyoya

**A Note to The Readers:** Hello! Congratulations to have made it to chapter eight! Thank you so much for staying with me! I hope this doesn't disappoint.

For those of you who expected a bomb ass, abs exposing, muscle clenching, battle posing fight between your homeboy Tsunayoshi vs Mukuro, I'll tell you that I TRIED to write it because I wanted an epic battle as well. Unfortunately, it doesn't really suit the story and it made the chapter unnecessary long. Needless to say, our homeboy Tsunayoshi did do Mukuro a thorough beatdown because the fool just won't stand down.

｜*￣∇￣｜/

* * *

 **CHAPTER EIGHT**

Hibari Kyoya

* * *

"May I see it?" It isn't really a request to begin with, Ryuusei merely sounds polite. His hand is outstretched to Tsuna who takes a step back.

"I'll give it back," Ryuusei's lips stretch into a thin line.

Tsuna doesn't have a choice. He takes Leon's mittens from his pants pocket and hands it to the man who observes the fabric keenly, stroking a thumb against the grain of cloth. It's not really cotton. More like silk. It feels expensive, something a middle school boy can't afford.

Ryuusei hands it back.

"You defeated an enemy my son could not," Ryuusei says, taps his cane on the damaged floor. He sweeps his eyes on the surrounding destruction. The living room is unrecognizable. The floors above are torn beyond use as if columns of fire emerged from the ground, eating away old wood –the entire wing of the house redesigned by violence into a gaping maw of wood and plaster. It's a sad sight. Reconstructing this section of the house will take months, will be expensive. Ryuusei is happy to forward the bill to Iemitsu.

They _ordered_ Tsuna to fight Mukuro. Ryuusei's house is a mere casualty.

"Where is my Kyoya?" Ryuusei asks Rosetta. She stuck herself to Tsuna's side since Ryuusei dropped to Namimori. Reborn is busy; taking inquiries about the shadowed men who dropped unannounced after Tsuna defeated Mukuro, dragging him along with his men to Vendicare prison. Ryuusei isn't happy about that either. He wants justice in the payment of blood.

Rosetta looks up, meets Ryuusei's blank gaze. Suddenly, Tsuna matters less.

"He's in the hospital, boss. Intensive care," she says honestly. "He shouldn't be out until next week."

Tsuna did fight Mukuro in Kyoya's body. The illusionist only manifested his own shell when Kyoya became too willful to control. It was a bloodbath.

Ryuusei makes a dismissive noise as his lip curls. "He's in luck. I would have taught him a lesson. A shame, losing to someone like Rokudo Mukuro. I thought I taught him well."

"It's not his faul–," Rosetta realizes her mistake after she's opened her mouth. She purses her lips. He is staring at her.

"Of course you would defend him, you're his wife. You don't want to be tied to someone who loses his battles," he says this as if he's teaching her a lesson.

She sucks in a breath, looks up, steeling herself. "I'd still stick with him, even if he loses again." Her ears go red.

Ryuusei blinks twice, which he doesn't do often. "Are you asking to be hit?"

"No, boss," Rosetta smiles wryly. Tsuna squeezes her arm in warning. "I think… I think losing is good for him. I think over time he developed this twisted sense of thinking, he's the biggest fish in Namimori's pond and it has gone to his head. He… I mean… he needs to taste defeat occasionally." She's careful to say only the truth.

"You want him to learn humility?" Ryuusei challenges.

"Yes."

There is silence for a moment, punctuated by the birdsong outside. Ryuusei's cold eyes assess her critically. Then he chuckles, it's a throaty sound without sincerity, but the corners of his eyes betray his mood. "Is that the truth?" he asks.

"It's merely my opinion." Rosetta looks away as Ryuusei's hand lands on top of her head as if petting a dog.

"Sometimes I long for your company," Ryuusei sighs visibly. That could have been believable in his son's funeral. Rosetta resists rolling her eyes. "Takenaka's ingrained obsequiousness grates at times. Is his son the same?" She doesn't notice the bitterness at the end of his sentence, distracted by the sight of Reborn strolling to them. He greets Ryuusei, who bows. Reborn takes Tsuna away, something about an errand. Rosetta tries not to look so relieved when they're out of her sight.

"Tetsuya-san is better," Rosetta sniffs.

She must have said something wrong. Ryuusei sighs, leaning heavily on his cane. He takes her hand and inspects the tiny scar running between her ring finger and her pinky. She's startled by how familial his touch is.

"My dear," he says, solemnly. "You're still young, and you're my family. I know I'm quick to anger with you, so I always try to forgive you. I understand you're fond of Tetsuya, but Rokudo Mukuro stood in front of him for hours and he didn't realize..." Ryuusei looks away. "Tetsuya brought a criminal home without realizing it. Trust me on his fate."

"Oh no," Rosetta mouths. "Oh, no, _please_ no." She goes cold from the inside out. She hasn't seen Tetsuya since the fight. "What have you done? He's blameless. Even Reborn-san didn't know."

"The Arcobaleno didn't watch my son grow up." His grip tightens. "Tetsuya was played like a fool."

"Hibari-san," Takenaka says from behind her, he bows to the boss. "Kyoya-san left the hospital. He just entered the premises."

She snaps her head back, eyes wide with words unsaid.

"Good," Ryuusei says, letting go of her. "Bring him here, bring your son too."

Rosetta swallows down her panic. She wants to say something, but she swallows her words. Not yet, it's too early. Thieves are punished with death. Liars are punished with a beating. Betrayal, unwitting betrayal… she doesn't know. She puts her professional face on. Ryuusei won't listen to her now. It's worse if she's hysterical.

Ryuusei embraces Kyoya when he arrives and punches him in the jaw. Kyoya stands up, defiant. The second blow brings him to his knees. His nose bleeds. Kyoya stands again and Ryuusei continues. There is nothing gained from a person who's willing to be struck. Ryuusei won't teach Kyoya anything this way and Kyoya knows it.

Ryuusei's final punch brushes against his son's teeth, cutting his knuckles open.

"You learn quickly," Ryuusei sounds almost disappointed as if he wished his son would fight back. "That's good. I appreciate that. I'm getting too old to teach you lessons."

"Drop and die, will you?" Kyoya sneers, on his feet.

"You'll have to do more than that," Ryuusei looks lazily at his consigliere. "Rosetta my dear, please call the doctor now."

Rosetta motions to the retainer posted outside and gives away the instruction much to Ryuusei's displeasure. It's a clear dismissal, and she ignored it.

He clicks his tongue.

"Don't test me. This is family business."

"Not again boss," Rosetta smiles with her lips. "You just said I was family. Now you're taking it back."

Takenaka emerges from the garden. He is pushing his son along the pebbled path. Tetsuya looks defeated, his shoulders sagged, his clothes ruined with white lines of dried sweat. He looks pathetic this way. No longer Tetsuya Kusakabe, a man who served the Hibari but a criminal to be punished. Rosetta looks at him hard, burns the memory of his face to her brain. Just in case she never sees him again.

Tetsuya is kneeling on the ground. He's not looking at any of them.

"I've thought long and hard for this–" Ryuusei says to Kyoya who is standing straight, eyes blistering with rage "–what a suitable punishment I can give you. A beating isn't enough. I know it wasn't enough for me. I've been lenient with you. I've given you what I wanted as a child. Freedom."

"This isn't freedom," Kyoya spits back, hands clenching. He doesn't have his weapons. "Don't preach what you don't walk."

"Freedom comes with consequences," Ryuusei isn't even angry, he's trying so hard to be patient. "I thought I'd teach you responsibility, but you've learned nothing. You don't manage yourself. You allow someone to take over your body–" Ryuusei slaps Kyoya. "You don't manage your men."

Ryuusei's clothes are always well tailored in a way that it hides his shoulder holster. They don't expect him to carry other weapons, his cane has always been enough. He takes a pistol from his side and whistles for Takenaka. His right-hand man approaches, kneels and accepts the gun.

"Kill Tetsuya," Ryuusei says.

Time slows down for Rosetta as she watches Takenaka march to his son.

She always thought highly of Ryuusei. In the eyes of the Yakuza, the boss is like a parent, a true father, unlike the watered down terminology the Italians like to use. Wrong as it is for fathers to hurt their children, when she first saw Ryuusei beat his heir, she was struck with the fact that he'd treat his sons like his subordinates. That he thinks of his subordinates as his sons too. Twisted logic, yes. But for his men, equality in their boss' eyes meant the world to them.

Ryuusei wouldn't kill his own sons to teach his men a lesson.

What was she thinking?

"You said he'll be punished!" Rosetta says. Her heart drops at her feet. Why does she sound twelve again? "This isn't punishment, this is death!"

"Tetsuya knows nothing but the way of our life. Freeing him will be a disgrace to his servitude. This is the only way," Ryuusei says, bored. Rosetta turns away from him, vision shaky. She meets Kyoya's eyes. Finds nothing, she rips her gaze from him and rushes out.

"No! _–stop_. Kusakabe-san, that's your son!" Rosetta screams, bracing for a run. Ryuusei blocks her with his cane. She pushes back. Then he grips her by the shoulders, twists her so her feet are off the ground. Her stitches open, her ribs burst in stabbing pain. She can't overpower the boss, not like this.

"Why won't you do anything?" She yells at Kyoya as a retainer quickly tries to take a hold of her. She kicks the man away, elbowing the boss by accident.

Takenaka flips the safety off, loading the gun with practiced ease. He's nearing Tetsuya. Why won't Tetsuya run?

"You call everyone around you herbivores. You act all high and mighty. But when it comes to your father, you're complacent! You're nothing but a damn dog!"

Kyoya's eyes widen.

Ryuusei's abrupt laughter comes out of nowhere. He lets go. Rosetta dodges the retainer's effort to subdue her. She runs and kneels by Tetsuya, pulling him by his arm. He doesn't budge. She's so furious that she's dizzy with it.

"Tetsuya! Get out of here!"

Tetsuya doesn't move. He looks at her with the eyes of a dead man. She wants to slap him. He doesn't have the right. He can't accept this.

"Don't question my honor," Takenaka says as he pushes her off. He points the gun at Tetsuya's temple, his grip doesn't waver. Rosetta stands and slaps Takenaka so hard that the cuts on her palms reopen. His spectacles fall, shatters against the white pebbles on the ground.

"What honor?" She yells. The gun wavers. "If you do this, you will spend your whole life serving a man who ordered your son's death! How is that honorable?"

"My dear, be careful of what you say next," Ryuusei warns, a grin on his face. She ignores him.

"You have a higher responsibility to your son! You owe him more than this! You owe him for putting him in this world of ours. Stand down, Takenaka!"

"I can't," Takenaka says. Something in Tetsuya wakes up. He looks at his father.

"I–" Takenaka's watery eyes drops to his son, then lifts to his boss. Then he shuts his eyes.

He pulls the trigger.

A non-expanding bullet will go through a human body in a straight line. Linear. Clean. It exits out in a burning hole if not stopped by bone or tissue, often the same size as the entry wound. An expanding bullet, however, shatters upon its entry, crushing bones and tearing tissue.

Tetsuya blinks. He's not dead. The gun on Takenaka's hand is empty. His father just tried to kill him.

"Do you think of me so low to ask my right-hand man to kill his son? I thought I told you to trust me?" Ryuusei is taking the weapon from Takenaka's trembling hand. The retainer's face is red, along with his eyes. But there are no tears. He kneels by his son and undoes his bindings. "A man of ours nearly handed you over to the Gesso because his lover was taken. I won't have that mistake with Takenaka. Now I know for sure."

Rosetta's knees go weak, composure nearly gone. Beside her, she hears Takenaka give in, sobbing to his son who's curled up against him. She should have followed Kyoya who stood unmoving. How did he know the gun was empty? Now she's said all the wrong things and done the stupidest stunt she's done since the wedding speech. Her eyes sting, but she blinks her tears away, refusing to cry. She's been crying like a little girl this week. Not anymore.

"No apologies this time?" Ryuusei asks gently. The sudden change in his tone turns her red with shame. He removes his tie and wraps it around his fist.

"It was my mistake," she says.

"Good, you're not making excuses." Ryuusei's drops his cane. He looks at his son, then to his retainer. "Takenaka, enough sniveling, hold her wrists behind her."

Takenaka's hands are cold when he binds her.

"What are your injuries?" Ryuusei asks.

"Badly bruised ribs, multiple cuts, and lacerations, bruises," Rosetta answers, trying not to look at Kyoya.

Ryuusei nods, "I'll try to make this quick for you, my dear. I have a flight to catch. The Carcassa bids for peace. "

"Thank you, boss."

Ryuusei graces her with a fond smile.

"Clench your teeth."

* * *

"You're unhappy," Ryuusei observes, tapping the table with his finger pads as Iwasaki wipes the blood out from his knuckles. It's an annoying quirk he picked up from Rosetta, sitting across her on their long flights. She looked smug about it. Later on, she picked up his small tells –pressing her fist against her mouth. A boyhood habit he's found difficult to abandon, as all habits go.

He's talking to his son, Kyoya, who's not even looking at him.

"You didn't like what I did to her–" Ryuusei continues. The doctor flinches, looks away. She brought Rosetta to the hospital after she collapsed. Fragile girl. The memory brings a smile to his face. "–or… you didn't like what she said."

"My opinions hardly matter to you," Kyoya says.

"Correct, that doesn't mean I don't care to hear them. What's on your mind?"

Kyoya observes the infirmary. Rosetta seems to have taken permanent residence there. He sees several of her coded paperwork stacked on the table piled with the doctor's grenades. Her colorful pens are taking residence inside a recycled pencil case from her home economics class. A picture frame, also from the same class lays face down the table. He's sitting on her bed, apparently.

He takes the frame and flips it up. His forehead crinkles. There's a picture.

It's Rosetta in her classroom, grinning wildly at the camera. He sees two other girls with her. One with short brown hair and large eyes, the other he recognizes, the president of Namimori's archery club, Hana Kurokawa. Brown hair has her tongue stuck out. Archery girl is sneering. Behind he can see Tetsuya looking peeved that he's included in the photo.

"Let me dole out the punishments next time," Kyoya says, putting the picture frame where it belongs, face up. He takes one of her pens –pink with floating glitters. "She's my wife."

Ryuusei hums. "I can always arrange for another one if you're not satisfied. She's useful, yes. But I can take over her family in half a decade. The girl has no loyalty to her famiglia. They know it. I can have her killed once I replace all her generals."

Kyoya stiffens. "I don't want another woman."

"You're already attached?" Ryuusei grins genuinely, presses his uninjured knuckle against his lips. "Kyoya, she's not your type. She probably hates you by now."

"She doesn't hate me."

"She called you a dog," Ryuusei points out to his annoyance. "You'll want someone who follows you without question."

"Just like my mother," Kyoya says. The pen is his hand snaps. He observes it again and sets it back on the table.

"Yes," Ryuusei responds.

"You _shot_ her." Kyoya can vividly recall the memory. He was six years old. They were having dinner. The family complete –or at least all the ones he considered family. His mother, his father, Tetsuya and him. Ryuusei was complaining about the unstable stock market, how big companies got away from taxes with their charities. It was mundane. His mother laughed at Ryuusei's borrowed anecdotes, and then she shared something about her eventful day. Ryuusei stood up and Kyoya's mother was lying on the floor, a bullet between her eyes.

"I've been searching for a mole in our system for two years," Ryuusei leans back. This is an old conversation that he always wins. If Kyoya wants to play again, he's welcome. "Turns out she was feeding family secrets to her friends. She angered me. Cost us millions, cost me years of drawback." He sighs.

Kyoya is silent. Ryuusei is getting bored. Not a good sign.

"Your mother didn't love you, you know?" Ryuusei baits, lifting his eyebrows. Kyoya resists rolling his eyes, he's heard of this before. "She didn't love me either. It was her duty. Her obligation. Our marriage was a business agreement between her father and me. Just like our dear Rosetta is to you."

Kyoya makes a derisive noise. "Mother wouldn't have stood against you to save my lackey." The realization hits him like a bullet. His mother would have watched silently, and she did watch silently as other children took punishments for Kyoya's mistakes. He looks at the picture again. Rosetta looks her age here, wide amused eyes and a symmetrical smile. She doesn't smile like that in his presence.

Rosetta is not like his mother.

Ryuusei coughs, as if embarrassed. He takes the broken pen, frowns as glitter crusts against his skin. He continues, ignorant of the turmoil Kyoya is in "Your mother would never mock the concept of loyalty too. That's why she was perfect, or nearly perfect." He looks at Kyoya, who seems pensive. "I suppose as bad habits go, Rosetta picked the worst from you."

Kyoya's surprise snaps him from his thoughts.

"Ho? Which one?"

"Your annoying tendency to save people who don't want to be saved," Ryuusei looks mildly annoyed now. Pen abandoned, he taps his fingers against the table again and stops himself. The doctor is finished with his knuckles. She doesn't wait for his dismissal. She takes her id, her coat, her novel, and rushes out.

"The disciplinary committee?" Kyoya asks.

"Yes," Ryuusei wipes his fingers absently. "Namimori's crime rate is nearly zero because of you. You smother Namimori's delinquent groups before they form. Namimori is the safest town in Japan." Ryuusei stands straight, hands wrapped over the other atop his cane. He looks menacing this way, impeccable straight lines, the thrum of quiet strength buzzing beneath his expensive suit. His lip curls, a familiar smirk Kyoya has seen in himself on the mirror. "They won't remember it's you. They won't thank you. Civilians have a tendency to remember the pain, never the lesson."

* * *

Rosetta spends her fifteenth birthday alone, barely conscious in a dark hospital room. She moves her fingers. All ten are present. She tries to move her toes. She doesn't feel a few. It feels like hours before she pokes her foot through the thin blanket. All fingers present if numb. The panic settles into a halo of discomfort.

Her body feels stuffed with cotton, the dull throb of muscle pain humming within her flesh.

It's four in the morning and she's alone, save from the handful of retainers outside her room. She forgives herself for humming happy birthday and sleeping before she gets halfway through the song.

The pain and the drugs lull her to a dreamless sleep. She hears Iwasaki's jargon through the haze of her slumber, then Takenaka's stupid accent, whispering something Italian in the quiet air. She wants to shut him up. She wants to sleep.

Many hours pass. She smells flowers but knows enough that Namimori General doesn't tolerate live plants. Probably perfume then. Nana Sawada? Kyoko? No, Kyoko doesn't wear perfume. Hana wears men's cologne. It's Nana Sawada.

Tsuna probably visits too because she knows no one stupid enough to accidentally sit on her hand. Plus, she feels something small crawl up her face. Leon. That means Reborn, who is thankfully quiet enough to let her sleep.

She wakes up on the second day, irritable and in dire need of a bath. She sees Tetsuya on the foot of her bed, an icepack over her leg. Ryuusei got her leg too. She wonders how he managed that.

"Your hair," she croaks. Tetsuya jumps. His eyes are red and his eye bags are ditches dug from the earth of his sallow skin. The biggest change is his hair. His ridiculous pompadour is gone. There is a bun above his head. He looks like an entirely different person. "What happened to your hair?"

Her throat feels like sandpaper rubbing against each other. Tetsuya abandons the icepack, helping her up despite her weak protests. He calls Iwasaki from his earpiece –that's new– and waits as she persists questioning him.

Iwasaki appears. There is a book under her armpit. She asks Rosetta questions, who answer quickly after she drinks water. She's fine. Bruises all over. Two broken ribs. Some of her cuts developed an infection, but Iwasaki is nothing if a good doctor. She's hooked into different antibiotics and strong painkillers. One more week at the hospital and she's free to go. No strenuous activities for a month.

"Define strenuous," Rosetta croaks, smiling.

"No pissing off the boss," Iwasaki sniffs.

"He wasn't mad," Rosetta says, yawning. She regrets it. Her entire face hurts. She wonders if it's a giant bruise. She hopes not, or at least she hopes that Kyoya doesn't visit her when she looks like this. "I've seen him mad."

Iwasaki sighs.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were the house doctor," Rosetta asks her.

"It's easier this way," Tetsuya says.

She smiles at him, reaching up in the pace of a snail. "Can I touch your hair?"

Tetsuya chuckles. He looks miserable, looks like he has a lot to say, but he bites it back, kneeling so Rosetta can reach his head.

"Gross, it's full of grease."

"Pomade," he corrects.

Rosetta reaches his face, touches his cheek, tries to jab a finger up his nostril for fun. She wants to sleep again. "I'm happy you're alive. You're my best friend."

"I can't be your best friend," Tetsuya says, defeated, it doesn't suit his voice at all. The man is best described as a pillar –tall, strong and silent. She doesn't want to see him like that again, kneeling in the garden, about to die.

"Because you'll probably betray me someday…. I know that. It doesn't have to be mutual," she says. "God knows it doesn't."

* * *

"Who the hell let you in here?" Rosetta moans when she hears Kyoko's distant giggles. She cracks her eyes open and tries to ward off the ladies by clawing at their faces. Bad move. It pulls muscles she never knew existed. Tears spring out of her eyes.

"If I knew you'd be ungrateful, we wouldn't have bothered," Hana is grinning. There is a large teddy bear on the sofa behind her; a gaudy 'get well soon!' embroidered on the giant red heart it embraces. Rosetta will have to burn it down or force Tetsuya to carry it around in public.

"I am grateful," Rosetta croaks. They're wearing their uniforms. Hana's archery set is probably outside, confiscated by the men. "How's school?"

Kyoko's face brightens. "It's been good–"

"Kyoko, please, it _sucks,_ " Hana cuts in, glaring at Rosetta who gives her a halfhearted shrug. "Your precious husband is patrolling nonstop, punishing students for every _minor_ infraction. He gave me detention because my ribbon was skewed." Hana pointedly fixes her ribbon, cursing when Rosetta laughs and laughs along when Rosetta wheezes in pain.

Kyoko talks about school as Hana fusses around the small room. There's a small sofa, a plastic plant, an unused heart monitor and a television in front of Rosetta's bed. Hana then examines the various gifts left by strangers. There is a number of plastic flowers on the table, four glittery balloons Rosetta is sure came from Tsuna and Reborn, and various get-well cards from the men. Hana, once satisfied that she brought the largest gift settles on Rosetta's bedside.

According to the two, Rosetta has been absent for a week already, she's missed several quizzes and her grades are on the brink of being comparable with Tsuna's. Hana has been invited to an archery training camp and is on the fence, torn between sports and academics. Kyoko spends an hour skirting around Tsunayoshi Sawada much to Hana's annoyance. Apparently, some students made fun of him when he appeared after a period of unexcused absences, wrapped in bandages. Okada cornered him that lunch, wanting to see if he made his injuries up, wanted to see if Tsuna simply wanted to join the bandwagon. To him, Tsuna was too weak to be targeted by the delinquents. Before Gokudera could put Okada in his place, Kyoya appeared out of nowhere and sent him to the hospital.

The mention of Kyoya tears an undefinable expression from Rosetta's face.

"What's wrong?" Kyoko's tilts her head.

"No, nothing," Rosetta blinks, puts a bandaged hand over Kyoko's warm pair. "It's nothing."

But it's not. Kyoya stood there in silence as her father-in-law broke her ribs. He stood there, staring at her face, choking her spirit with the physical weight of his gaze. Ryuusei wouldn't stop even if his favorite son asked to. She knows that. But did he know it? Did he know that his hands are tied behind his back? Or did he stand there because he truly disliked her? He truly hated her.

"I don't believe you," Kyoko says. Hana asks if they fought and tells her that fighting is normal in a relationship.

Rosetta tries to laugh, but it comes out thin, stretched out. The last of her hope flickers out. She sounds pathetic, feels pathetic. Is she that desperate that this rejection feels like heartbreak? Ryuusei would mock her.

"We've been doing nothing but fight," comes out of her. She's spent more time trying to appeal to Kyoya more than they've spent together.

"Well," Kyoko tries for positivity, "on the bright side…" She trails off, unable to finish her sentence because the door opens and in walks Kyoya himself. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Kyoko stiffens in her seat, chirping a shy hello. Hana straightens up.

"Visitation hours are over," Kyoya says. Hana swipes their bags from under the sofa and ushers Kyoko out.

"See you soon!" Kyoko chirps again before they scurry off, Hana clutching at her arm. The door shuts, very slowly, with a self-conscious click.

Kyoya looks well. There are fading bruises along his neck and his hands. That aside, he presents no signs of going through battle. He observes the room and raises an eyebrow at the ugly teddy bear Hana left.

Rosetta cracks a smile at him, it doesn't reach her eyes. "I think–," she says, emboldened, "I think one day, I'll say something wrong to you and you'd throw me over the balcony as my father did to my mum."

"Will I?" Kyoya asks, walking to the window. He closes the curtain and doesn't speak until Rosetta loses her patience.

"What are you doing here?"

"Fifty-five minutes," Kyoya responds, observing the plastic flowers.

She blinks, for a mere second she feels elated, but even that quickly morphs into disdain. "You don't have to. I give up. You win. You hate me and everything I live for. You don't have to waste your time on me, I won't force you to." She hopes that her expression is not too bitter, that the conversation will end with her dignity intact.

If anything, he is unimpressed. He turns his head to her, his hands tucked neatly behind him. There is a shadow on his face. "I don't hate you."

Rosetta feels the implication more than she hears it.

"And I didn't think you'd be the one to give up," Kyoya continues, of course he does.

A bitter laugh slips out of her before she can stop. She can't believe it. She was resigned a minute ago, now he's baiting her. It makes her angry. She inhales, sucking her tongue to stop herself from saying anything stupid, but it comes out anyway.

"What is this?" She hisses. "Some kind of pity? False hope? I liked that one thing about you and you fuck it up!"

Kyoya's jaw clenches, disapproval burns in his eyes. "It's not pity." He's not sure what he came here for. He tries again.

"You despise me for letting my father beat you," he says.

Rosetta stares at him evenly, her jaw clenched tight.

Kyoya frowns. He tries again.

"What do you think I could have done?" he says. "Do you think I wanted my retainer to die? You should have remained quiet, you had to involve yourself. If I moved an inch, I would have condemned both of you to die."

She blinks. "I don't understand."

Kyoya looks irritated that he has to explain himself. "You're confident that my father can't execute you, but can you say the same in a handful of years? He'd kill you to teach me a lesson."

Her breath hitches, anger draining away. Was that sympathy? She watches him. He stares back with animal eyes. No. She's mistaken. Not sympathy but instinct, reasoning. If she dies along with Tetsuya then he'll lose two pawns instead of one.

The way he looks at the world is frightening. He doesn't care for her.

She thinks of Marco.

"You don't know that."

"I do," he says with so much conviction that the hairs prickle in her arms. There is a history behind it.

"This happened before," she whispers.

"Yes," he says.

Damn Ryuusei to hell. Sometimes she dreams of putting her hands around his neck. "I didn't really think of you as a dog. But we might as well have been. Asks his retainer to kill his son, beats his daughter-in-law in front of her husband, trying to teach us as a lesson? He's doing it for kicks. As if we'd learn anything from that. I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"Careful," he warns, his mouth relaxing around the corners. "The walls have ears."

"Takenaka wouldn't care," she replies, lifting her chin. The room is likely bugged since he visited. "And it's the truth, isn't it?"

The corners of Kyoya's mouth lifts. It's a strange expression, too small to be called a smile, too genuine to be mocking.

Rosetta smiles back, humorless. She needs some time to think. "Go away, Kyoya-san."

"How are your injuries?"

She freezes, having yet to build a defense against niceties coming from him. Her skin crawls and she tries to focus on that rather than the fact that her heart is thudding through her hospital clothes.

"I don't like this game you're playing," she says, wary.

"I have fifty minutes."

She looks for something to throw at him and finds nothing substantial. Maybe it's for the best.

She exhales. The room is getting warmer, she almost misses the chill. If he wants to stay then he has to speak. She's unwilling to sit in silence in his company for another hour.

"You care about my well-being," she chimes in. She has a feeling that a remark about the weather will set their relationship back to square one. Not that she knows what particular square they're standing on at the present. Square one point five, perhaps?

"You were never sick."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Rosetta says.

Kyoya pauses. "You were never hospitalized."

"You don't want to talk about what happened?"

"What's the purpose of that?"

"Closure?"

"Nobody died," Kyoya says, uninterested. "There is nothing to lament about."

Rosetta breathes in, counts to ten. Now that he's willing to talk, it feels like she's conversing to a machine. "You never wanted to talk before."

"There was nothing important to be said."

"Now there is? This reeks of the boss."

"He didn't send me here."

"You came willingly; you wanted to see me on your own. No motives?"

"Don't be foolish. The world does not spin without purpose."

"Why then?"

Kyoya pauses. "We're married."

"We've been married for years." Rosetta shakes her head, her brain counting to fifty to smother the… what? It's not irritation. It's not exasperation. Not disappointment… Whatever it is, it's churning happily inside her stomach, making her uncomfortable. "If you're here to assuage some guilt for watching me turn into a punching bag, fine. Just… don't pretend it's something else. If you're here because you pity me, forget it. This isn't the worst punishment I received from the boss."

"What?"

She stares at him.

"What?" She repeats.

"You're fond of having me repeat myself," Kyoya says with a barely perceptible sigh. "What do you mean punishments?"

"I already mentioned a few," Rosetta finds herself explaining, astounded. "He put me in one of his torture camps after our marriage. They hospitalized me for a month."

"What else did he do?"

Oh, now he's interested. Rosetta doesn't know if this is a good thing. It's probably a terrible thing.

"You know about the fork…"

"You can't play the piano, yes. What else?"

She doesn't correct him. She lost her skill in the camp, not because the boss drove a fork through her hand.

The memory is unpleasant. She has never told this to anyone, not even to her mother. And yet… it's intoxicating to be the center of Kyoya's attention. Or maybe she's deluding herself. Rosetta hesitates before she reminds herself that she's a Hibari, not some wilting little girl. "He saw me look away once," she begins. "It was a _soldato_ , caught stealing from the pipelines, one among twenty thieves. The boss wanted the others to learn efficiently. He killed the leader and when he saw that I was avoiding the carnage… he gave me a … he gave me his cane and asked me to shoot. I've never–" She scrunches her eyebrows. "He said as his family, I needed to learn. He held my hands. That he won't ask me to stop until I liked it."

"How many died in your hands?" Kyoya approaches her.

"Twelve," she looks up. He is right beside her, watching her with his particular brand of humbling attention. And she realizes what the feeling in her stomach is. It's dread, embarrassment, humiliation. People are creatures of habit. Tomorrow, Kyoya would have forgotten about this. Next week, he'll scowl at her sight again. What then? She knows he's lenient today because of what she did for Tetsuya. Does she have to risk her life for scraps of his attention? Rosetta wants to cry. "He wasn't happy. I, in turn, was relieved I ran out of bullets."

"Lucky you, he usually loads his cane with fifteen."

She blinks, sucks in a breath.

"Did he do it to you too?"

"To all of his sons," he says.

"How many did it take you?"

"One."

"Oh, my… Was the person a thief too?" She feels gouged out. Kyoya is holding something to her, a handkerchief. She takes it and angrily wipes her tears.

"A journalist caught sneaking in the grounds. We kept dogs then, Kusakabe-san fed the woman to the animals."

"Poor girl," she says and then swallows. She can't seem to stop crying and he doesn't seem to be bothered, although she's not sure because she can't see him well. Normally, she wouldn't have the courage to say this, but just now she's reminded yet again that her life is empty. That she can count her friends with one hand. That she doesn't want to lose her odd conversations with her husband. "Will you do this again?"

"Do what?"

"Talk to me like this, give me your handkerchief?" She laughs a little, at herself and how pathetic she sounds. She is used to pain, one of the many joys of being in the mafia. But she's not wearing her armor, barefoot, bruised, and tucked in the hospital bed like a victim of domestic abuse.

He is silent after that. Rosetta is used to staring, but not when it's him.

"Tell me first, how did you know it was me?" Kyoya asks.

"When you were taken over?" She asks, watches as his lip quirks. "You don't eat my meals. He implied that he wanted to. You'd never do that."

He gazes at her. "They were bribes."

"The sole son of a Yakuza boss who doesn't take bribes. Will you try them next time?"

"No."

"It's okay," she says, more to herself. "Will you answer my question now?"

"Do you want me to?" He asks.

She nods.

"Will you cry again?"

She laughs. So it does make him uncomfortable.

He looks away. "It's not a promise," he announces. "But alright."

* * *

 **A Note to the Readers:** I tried! Kyoya is such a difficult character to write! But I don't have the right to complain either, because I chose him! Hahaha. The next update will be in a week or so since I'll be busy with school. Kyoya and Rosetta's relationship is going to improve from this point on.

Comments and suggestions are welcome! I'd like to hear what you have to say. （人･ω･)


	10. Kusakabe Tetsuya

**A Note to the Readers:** I've been naming my chapters with characters. Lmao! Thanks for tuning until chapter nine! Or chapter ten if you think prologues are considered chapters. (・ωｰ)～

* * *

 **CHAPTER NINE**

 **Kusakabe Tetsuya**

* * *

In the end, Pasquale begged after he sang his confession. Rosetta wonders if she'll beg too if they changed positions. Maybe, yes, but she won't last as long as he did. She'd bleed out, die of fever. Pasquale had been less of a man and more of an animal when Tetsuya put a bullet between his eyes. She doesn't want to end up like that, emaciated and covered in waste.

They sent Nicodemo his son's head.

"If Nicodemo has any sense, he'll end this feud," Tetsuya whispers in Italian much to Rosetta's displeasure. They're at school, walking to her classroom at a snail's pace. Students litter the hallways, edging around them as they chat before the bell rings. If they mind that the two are clogging the hall, they don't voice it. Her crutches buy patience and Tetsuya's presence wards off unwelcome inquires.

"No," Rosetta says. "The boss wanted a fraction of his hold. Now he'll want something more and Nicodemo cannot afford that. If he's smart he'll die quickly and let his sons deal with the mess."

"The boss will listen to the Gesso's heir?"

"More likely to agree to a truce, the sons did not plan Kuniyoshi's death. Or at least on the outside." Rosetta winces, she should have waited for another day before returning to class. Maybe two days. Or a week. There are deep bruises under her eyes, her chin and around her chest like swarms of purple butterflies. Rumor has it that she was taken by the local gang terrorizing the students and that Kyoya went and destroyed the men that took her. It's a little close to the truth if not oddly romantic and far more glamorous than what had really happened.

"You could have stayed at home," Tetsuya says helpfully, giving her a hand. She hands him her crutch and relies on him instead to walk. It's easier like this. "This doesn't really prove anything."

"Yes, it does. I'm giving the boss the finger," her lip twitches.

"From this far?" He asks, with his eyebrows up. "He's in Palermo."

"Sapienza. He sent me a postcard. Meeting with the Carcassa went well."

"So I've heard _–hey! No crowding! Are you asking for detention?_ " Tetsuya yells at the group of incoming graduates who filters out of the staircase, encircling a cellphone. It's hard to look intimidating while assisting a near cripple. Some of the students roll their eyes at him. Tetsuya frowns, clicks his tongue, and memorizes their features –not that he doesn't know everyone in the school.

"It's the hair," Rosetta says later on at the classroom. She's switched seats with Gokudera who'll take any opportunity to get closer to Tsuna.

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"What's with the bun? What happened to your–" she carefully gestures above her head, not quite knowledgeable about fashion to know what's it called.

"My pompadour."

"Yes! Whatever that's called, you look like you work part-time in the animal shelter. Your intimidation level... Gone."

"The students still respect me," he tries. Gokudera rolls his eyes from her left, eavesdropping.

"They don't. You know that. They feared you, now they don't know what to do with you. Is it because of what happened?"

"You think I changed my hair because my father nearly executed me?"

"Women change their hair for more trivial reasons."

"Well. I'm not a woman and I didn't–," he looks away, grinds his jaw. "The boss made fun of me."

Rosetta's brow scrunches. "After the near-execution?"

"I wish you wouldn't call it that."

"He made fun of you after you nearly died?"

He stares at her unflinchingly. "Yes, like a fool I was enraged at first, then inconsolable. My father tried to talk to me but I didn't wish to speak to him. Then the boss came. He wasn't any better. He jested about the state of my hair, trying to cheer me up."

"Geez, what an asshole," she says. That sounds like Ryuusei in his better moods, trust him to be happy after putting her in a hospital. Tetsuya is about to say something when Tsuna enters the room. Gokudera's chair crashes behind him in enthusiasm. Tetsuya narrows his eyes at the display.

"Don't say that out loud. Your mouth brings you trouble," he says after a while.

"I thought the boss was in Palermo," she mocks halfheartedly, which Tetsuya ignores. They watch Gokudera hurl insults to Yamamoto. The baseball player retaliates by the underhanded tactic of feigning ignorance, the intelligent glint in his eyes masked by his annoying laughter. It works, somehow and Gokudera explodes in fury. Bright and powerful. Tsuna is in the middle, expected to mediate.

"Tetsuya-san, are you all right? After that?" She asks, trying to hide her curiosity.

His mouth twists before he clears his throat, and he speaks as if he parrots: "I am. I'm proud of my father. He can put his loyalty before his blood. The family you create is far more important as the family you're born with." There he is again. Rosetta knows Tetsuya has opinions of his own, but the man weighs it down with his impressive self-control.

"The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb," she points out.

"What was that?"

"It's from a German poet. The boss likes the saying," she rounds to him, wincing when her ribs ache. "I've been honest with you, why can't you repay the courtesy?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says, feigning ignorance.

Rosetta narrows her eyes.

"What if it happens to you too? What if Mutsuo-san asks you to kill a theoretical child of yours?" she asks.

"Mutsuo is not my boss."

"Not yet. He's the heir though. In the future, you must answer to him."

"Mutsuo is _not_ my boss," he insists, leaning his hip by her desk. She looks at him thoughtfully.

"Have you thought of it though?"

Tetsuya sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He doesn't miss her persistence.

The door opens again. It's the history teacher, she pauses when she sees Rosetta and freezes when she sees Tetsuya. She clears her throat nervously. Tetsuya nudges Rosetta's desk with his waist, eyeing her smugly. The teachers still fear him. It will be akin to infection. Soon enough, the students will learn to fear him again.

She rolls her eyes. "Whatever, just answer my question."

"I have thought of it," he concedes, sweeping his eyes over the students, settling for class. "I'm never having kids."

* * *

Rosetta's phone rings during the math quiz. It's a new one; a bright yellow sliding phone to replace the one Benjiro stomped to pieces. It's the boss. She slips out of her chair, hobbling over to the exit as the teacher exclaims in annoyance. The retainers outside open the door for her and drag her a chair as she answers it.

"Mutsuo did well," Ryuusei purrs. "Caterina Provenzano is dead. She was your cousin, was she?"

"Yes," Rosetta says in hushed Italian. Her mother's sister was Nicodemo's first wife. She died at childbirth. Caterina was nearly a decade and a half older than her and from what Rosetta has heard Caterina didn't have a good life. Nicodemo was not pleased that his first wife died to bear him a daughter. He remarried quickly.

"Were you close?"

"Never met her. That leaves us with three more sons," Rosetta says, eyeing a crowd of students who give her curious looks.

"Two, Sergio and Vito, the heir, I don't care for the bastard."

"Byakuran? Boss, the Italian mafia–"

"Relies heavily on blood to choose their successors, yes, that is the case with you westerners. If it wasn't, you'd be of no use." Ryuusei says, tired of the topic.

"That makes him important too."

"He's a bastard."

"And bastards will have power when legitimate sons are dead," she says patiently. "What do you want out of this boss? If it's revenge, you've taken more heads than what's lost. Why not propose a negotiation? You've shown your hand." She knows Nicodemo doesn't want to lose his territories, but surely he knows Ryuusei will not stop unless he grows bored. "Or you can just assassinate the boss and talk to his heir. Vito is weak."

Ryuusei snorts. "A negotiation? You sound like you don't know me at all."

"I can't always agree with you, boss," Rosetta defends, straightening up. She can almost sense his frown. "I'm not Kusakabe-san."

That elicits a short bark of laughter.

"I'm not going to talk," Ryuusei says evenly. "Insults to me are forgiven through blood and life, not words."

"You mock me then," Rosetta breathes, "you pretend that I have a say in your business when I have not."

Ryuusei is quiet for a moment. "That is not entirely true. You're my consigliere."

"Yes, and I'm also your daughter-in-law who is rapidly diminishing in her use. I'm not illusioned by my title, boss. You've been clear. The game continues and you have the upper hand, I'll be watchful of assassins. What about your sons?"

"They're capable of protecting themselves," he says.

"That's because they have their retainers, men you cannot spare." She tries not to sound mocking. "Why not send your heir to Namimori? It's safer here."

"He's my son. People must not see him as a coward."

"And I am a girl so it's fine for me."

"Of course," Ryuusei confirms.

Rosetta wants to throw her phone.

"I'll relay security adjustments to Tetsuya-san," she says instead.

"A good idea. He's better than my son at management."

Rosetta asks details about Caterina, drug logistics, about the casinos Ryuusei requisitioned while Nicodemo mourned about the loss of his children. It's merely a matter of time before Nicodemo asks the Varia or another kill-squad to take her down. There's a large sum above her head now, growing larger as the war trudges on. She merely has to trick herself that she chose to be here even if it isn't much of a choice. She has to trick herself that she's standing on solid ground, or else she'll go insane with worry.

"The bastard son lives in Japan," Ryuusei sniffs. "You said he's important too. You can deal with him."

Rosetta nearly chokes. "You've never given me a mission before."

"You've never questioned your worth," he replies, smug. "Kill him. This should distract you from school."

"I don't need a distraction… besides, this is not the job of a consigliere."

"It is the consigliere's job if the boss warrants it to be. You can use my resources. Don't overdo it. I don't want the Vendicare nipping at my heels."

"Boss," she says, neutral. She's never really won an argument against him, and she will not try on the phone where she cannot see his cues. "Are you utterly sure I am the right person for this?"

"You're my daughter-in-law," he says with a hint of pride, which surprises her. "Learn from me, be subtle, be patient. If you can rope Kyoya into this, then it will be an exercise on how well you work with each other. Good luck, my dear."

* * *

"You wake up one fine morning and find out that the famiglia Marchetti is knocking at your bedroom door, demanding a better cut from two of your casinos he's managing after your income rises threefold in a year. Handing management of the casinos was the ninth's gesture of goodwill. What do you do?" Rosetta leans back. Her body doesn't ache as much as it did last week, but she's still irritable from the chronic pain whenever she breathes too deep.

They're in the garden again, sitting outside the greenhouse. Rosetta can spot about seven retainers patrolling the gardens outside. Tsuna is sitting across, chewing the end of his pen, casting nervous glances at Gokudera who Tetsuya finally deemed safe enough to enter the house.

"Stop using my father's famiglia for your examples!" Gokudera pipes in, loud now that Tetsuya has left out of boredom.

The sun is bright above them.

Rosetta casts him a thin smile. "It's useful, besides, I thought you hated your father."

"That's why it's annoying that you keep on using him!" He says this with a grand scowl.

"Then help Sawada-san remember more famiglia names," she says, unblinking. "Sawada-san, remind me to ask you to recite bosses, sons and their families later on."

Tsuna wilts visibly. Gokudera puffs up in comparison, face red with rage. "Stop using me to torture the boss!"

"Can you recite in his stead?" Rosetta asks waspishly.

"I can!"

"Then you've left your boss in the dark, you don't teach him about our world. I try to teach him so he doesn't make a great fool of himself and you interfere," she hisses. Gokudera doesn't look a touch reprimanded, but he sits back, mouth twisted into a snarl.

"Sawada-san, your answer, Benigno Marchetti just caught you in your underpants. He demands a seven percent increase in shares. What do you do?"

"Is he financially troubled?" Tsuna asks after ten minutes of thinking.

"Oh my God, Sawada-san. What the fuck," Rosetta presses a knuckle against her teeth, shutting her eyes painfully. Under the unforgiving light of the sun, she can see the crisscrossing of fine white scars on her fist. It's been three weeks of slow recovery, she's lost about seven pounds, a side effect from her medication. Her collarbones are pronounced and she's had Tetsuya adjust her skirt after she exhausted herself looking for the house tailor.

Gokudera looks pained on Tsuna's behalf.

"Tenth, that was…" It's a difficult pill to swallow, to find out that his precious boss is failing at being at, well, being a boss. Rosetta doesn't care enough to admit it, but she's at least proud of Tsuna for not allowing Gokudera's praises to bloat his ego.

Tsuna hangs his head in shame.

"It's okay," Rosetta says with a smile picked up from her carefully cultured well of patience. "We can try again, where exactly are you confused at?"

"Why does he need more money?" Tsuna tries. It's a rephrase of his earlier question. Rosetta nods.

"Benigno says –hm, Gokudera-san, give me a family you dislike."

"The fucking Lucce."

"All right, Benigno says the famiglia Lucce by your casinos' borders are growing stronger, and that repairs are expensive, despite claiming in his report he's got it all covered." She taps her colored marker on the table, filled with ledgers.

"The Lucce are a bunch of cocksuckers, but not as shitty as my fucking father," Gokudera adds helpfully.

"Your right-hand man has spoken." Rosetta smiles. "What is your verdict, Vongola tenth?"

"Hand over the casinos to Gokudera-kun," he says after deliberating for a minute, moving his lips as he thinks.

Rosetta claps. "And why will you do that?"

"Let's see," Tsuna says, sweating profusely. "Benigno-san is obviously lying in your story and Gokudera-kun said he is a bad person.–

"Fucking terrible," Gokudera hammers.

–If I give the casinos to Gokudera-kun, since he's Benigno-san's son, I don't really break relations with the famiglia Marchetti. But Benigno-san will lose his income."

"A normal don wouldn't care about his income," Rosetta sniffs. "He had the gall to barge in your room to embarrass you. It's your turn to humiliate him. But if you're a smarter boss, you'd hand him a smaller operation to manage. Truthfully, the operation is a guise. You're merely checking on him. He might have been pleading for a larger cut because another family is trying to buy his loyalty."

"And if he was?" Tsuna's voice is small.

Gokudera runs his finger across his throat.

Tsuna pales.

Rosetta smiles genuinely. "You're actually adequate at this theoretical problem-solving."

"It's the Vongola intuition," Gokudera shares to Tsuna's chagrin.

"Hm, yes," she nods at Tsuna. "Now, recite all the families and their bosses in five minutes. Your time starts now."

Rosetta hands him an empty map of Italy later on, to be filled up with names and colored and labeled, first the cities, then famiglia names and territories. The ever-changing abstract of families warring against each other, changing as the tides come and go. It might dishearten him, to see the once powerful Vongola who controlled nearly a fifth of Italy reduced to a smidge in the map. The main fortress stands strong amidst the fighting.

Rosetta has doubts that Tsuna will even take a step to Italy. They have a barbaric custom of naming several children heirs, only to pit them against each other on a succession battle. The Vongola Secondo started the tradition, and oddly enough they followed through. She's thankful she never has to see Xanxus pitted against him, thankful that her original betrothed is rotting in jail… if the rumors are true.

* * *

Her room was destroyed during Tsuna's battle. Now she stays in the less secure infirmary. The windows have been barred, and the glass bulletproofed. She's alone, wearing nothing but her skirt. Her bra and blouse are abandoned by the bed as she turns around the full-length mirror to inspect the scars on her torso.

It doesn't look good.

She's never one to really think about beauty, but sometimes she can't help herself. She's a teenager, after all, spending her lunches with the prettiest girl in class. She can't help but find the spider web of scars objectively hideous. The black stitching around her arms and torso is long gone, but she sees the remnants in mostly red and white seams knitted in her skin from cut glass. There are old bruises below her breast, partly covered with her hair, still faint green and mottled. She puts a hand against the largest blemish where her rib broke. The boss miscalculated his strength, next time she'll…

The door opens without a knock. The only reason Rosetta doesn't jump is that she knows Iwasaki doesn't bother to do so. It's her clinic after all.

"Iwasaki-sens–" Rosetta freezes as she picks up her bra.

Kyoya is standing in frozen shock, hand over the doorknob.

His pupils –she can see from their proximity– dilate in panic, and she can see through her terror the clear blue he must have gotten from his mother. Kyoya's eyes move from her reddening face, down her long neck, to the dip of her collarbone, and finally settle to the swell of her barely covered chest.

Rosetta _screams._

Later, Tetsuya is chuckling at her as she hurls a spoon at him and just like how she threw a ledger at Kyoya, she misses. The utensil clatters on the floor, the ringing seems to further the embarrassment she feels. Some maids titter in the back, losing composure from the look on her face.

"You're married," he says, grinning as she throws a fork, hoping for his eyeball.

"Privacy exists in married couples," she hisses, reaching for the knife.

"If it helps, he's embarrassed too. Kyo-san locked himself in his study and refused to talk to anybody."

She narrows her eyes, waving the knife. "Wait, since when did you call him Kyo-san?"

"Since I warded off the boss' teasing thirty minutes ago," he replies smartly.

Irritation crawls up her back. "How the hell did the boss know?"

"The household's rumor web is terrifyingly efficient. I'm afraid to say the reports the boss received were highly exaggerated."

"He saw my breasts, nothing else," Rosetta clarifies. Tsuna, sitting beside her, chokes on his ramen. Reborn tips his hat down.

"Oh dear," Tetsuya pales. "A retainer promised me that Kyo-san saw your naked body, fresh out of the shower. I informed the boss–"

"Which retainer was it? He saw my breasts! Nothing else!" Repeating it doesn't make the statement less embarrassing apparently, because the maids titter again whilst Tsuna wobbles in his seat.

"I'll clear it up!" Tetsuya vows, trying to calm her down as he dodges the knife. "It's not that bad, I promise you. Though the boss was expecting grandchildren…"

"I'm fifteen!" Rosetta throws her empty plate at Tetsuya. He catches it and tries to ineffectively pin her with a pointed stare. It's not working when she's snarling at him.

"Ryuusei had Mutsuo when he was seventeen," Reborn points out unhelpfully.

Rosetta slams her fists on the table, face reddening with rage. She's not one to abuse her power, but it's already been three hours and she's exhausted by how the maids look at her and giggle.

"That's it! If another one mentions this, they're fired!"

* * *

Kyoya narrows his eyes when he spots her dashing through the woody perennials. Rosetta waves at him tentatively from between a decorative pillar, hands on her knees as she catches her breath. It's too early in the morning that most of the household is still asleep. The sun hasn't warmed the horizon yet but later the atmosphere will clutch at the beginnings of winter, leaving the summer plants exhausted with frost. The gardeners will fuss endlessly.

"Good morning," Rosetta says with false cheer, wrapping an ugly scarf around her neck. Rita has been knitting since she was well enough to move her hands. She lost a kidney from a bullet.

Kyoya eyes her garb disapprovingly.

"Winter in Campania is never this cold," she raises an eyebrow when he focuses on her scarf. It's barf yellow and black, something from a book series Rita likes to harp about during downtime.

"It's not yet winter," he says. "Take it off."

"I'm cold." She crosses her arms. "One day I'll become acclimated. Now, I don't care about fashion as long as I am warm."

"What are you doing here?" He inquires, sweeping a lazy but a disparaging stare at her blue cashmere sweater. Rosetta notices this and crosses her arms, ostensibly covering her chest.

"You wanted to say something yesterday, why else would you barge in unannounced?"

"It's no longer your concern," he says, waving her off as he moves away. His feet barely crunch against the shell-white pebbles on the ground that marks the path between carefully manicured shrubberies. Rosetta follows, rubbing her hands.

"Not after I waited for you and wait! You walk too fast! Give me some credit."

"How did you know to find me here?" he asks, distracted.

"Tetsuya-san expounds on your topic when I keep my silences," she grins.

Kyoya looks piqued at that shred of information. "Sentimental fool," he grinds out as they pass an arch blooming with fragrant purple flowers. Rosetta follows him persistently and nearly bumps into his shoulder as he pauses, spine rigid.

"You intend on following me like a dog? I'm going out for patrol."

"I don't mind," she says, although she doesn't sound convinced. His patrols span the city limits. She neither has the energy nor does he have the patience. She takes it back. "I won't follow you out. It's about five in the morning and it's Saturday," she says. "Why did you come into my room?"

"It's an infirmary," he corrects her. "There are many guest rooms. You are free to choose."

She files that information in her head, biting the swell of her lower lip. "You're avoiding my question."

Kyoya stares at her with eyes carrying what it seems like perpetual boredom.

"Please answer me," she sighs, growing weary.

"I had a proposition. You need training," he says after a few seconds.

"Illusionists are rarely fighters," she tells him halfheartedly and notices the blade of genuine anger beneath his veneer of calm. He doesn't like illusionists then, not after Mukuro. Or maybe it's because of Ryuusei. Hopefully, it doesn't affect their relationship, not that it's substantial at the present.

"Or at least, that's what the boss says. I already use a gun," she continues.

"I can pin you down and hurt you in a blink of an eye." He flexes his fingers.

Rosetta swallows, butterflies flutter in her stomach.

"You can pin anyone I know and hurt them in half the time. Who will train me?"

"I said I _had_ a proposition."

"One look at my naked torso and you take it back?" She expects her words to irritate him and is granted with the sight of his furrowed brows, a small price to pay for the truth. "Is it because I'm female?"

"I'm not my father," Kyoya says with a prominent frown.

"You're clearly not. Why shouldn't I train?"

Kyoya shoves her. Rosetta yelps as she falls back, grappling at him for balance. He catches her elbow in time, his grip painful, and pulls her forward. She gains her balance just as quickly as she almost lost it, her heart thudding with surprise as her face flushes.

"You're too thin and you're too light, your bones are like a bird's, a gust of wind will sweep you away from here," he says without malice, unhanding her. She shakes him off, flustered at his proximity, to have been caught off guard. "Training you to fight will be a waste of my time."

"What if I followed Tetsuya in his morning jogs?" She asks after she swallows, wary.

"No. That would take too long and you don't have patience." He's walking again.

"You don't think I can do it?"

"Your body isn't good for fighting," he pauses, pondering and finds that she's looking at him intently. He seems to remember something and looks away.

"Not meant for fighting…." Rosetta ponders, maybe she'll still join Tetsuya in his morning jogs, force Tsuna to come along too. If it irritates Kyoya, then it's a bonus. She'll spend more time practicing her illusions too, better if she does it in a shooting range to improve her aim. If she only shot Fusanosuke in the head, she wouldn't have had stitches all over her torso.

"What is it good for then?" She asks absently, running an itinerary in her mind.

Kyoya mumbles.

She looks up, eyes wide and curious. "What did you say?"

"Childbirth."

Rosetta doesn't speak to him for a week.

* * *

Tetsuya is detail oriented, which means his paperwork is thrice over the amount of his boss. He is, however, efficient, but the weight of his thoughts has been overbearing since the day his father pulled the trigger against his head. A part of him died that day. He always convinced himself that he values work ethics and loyalty over the machinations of the heart, now he's not so confident.

Rosetta knocks and opens the door before he can respond. She pops her head through the small opening and scans the reception room.

"Hello," she says, eyebrows scrunched. "It's lunchtime."

Tetsuya puts his pen down and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Kyo-san is on patrol. You made his lunch again?" _If so, just leave it in the trash,_ he doesn't say. Lately, she's been sticking close to him, watching him keenly for something he doesn't care to ponder about. She's trying to join him in his morning runs too, often running out of breath during his warm-ups. Even Tsuna seems to fair better when showed up with her, only if Reborn is present.

"I feel better now, thanks," she comes in. "But this isn't for Kyoya-san. It's for you."

Tetsuya blinks and sputters. "I didn't help you make it and I don't accept bribes. Did you, did you do something I'm unaware of?"

Rosetta's smile cracks as she slides the meal on his table. "I didn't."

"What is it for then?" He pushes the meal away. He can smell something fried, probably dipped in cheese. Tetsuya's work doesn't always allow him the pleasure of regular meals, particularly, delicious meals. The bland cafeteria food has always been adequate, and he enjoyed the times he assisted her in the kitchens, to be gifted with a well-earned lunch. Rosetta's show of random generosity is suspicious. Perhaps this was what Kyoya felt like? Tetsuya feels closer to his boss.

She looks at him in the pointed way she looks at Tsuna when she's about to lose her patience. "You visited often in the hospital. This is my thanks."

"That was my job."

"You can convince yourself of that and throw it away or you can just eat it," she huffs. "I don't care."

And she leaves. Tetsuya eyes the meal warily before he drags it close to him and takes the lid off, crispy Tonkatsu and pickled vegetables on a bed of warm rice. He sighs. His resolve weakens.

The door opens. Kyoya walks in, lips curled up –a sign of a successful hunt.

"Kyo-san," Tetsuya stands, "you're early."

Kyoya doesn't reply. There are specks of blood on the collar of his uniform. His tonfas are matted with gore and his knuckles are a little bruised. Tetsuya suspects a gang fight. There is no safety in numbers, not when Kyoya is involved. Individuals angling for a fight lose in better shape than a well-prepared ambush of men. He needs to contact the local police, update his records.

"Throw that away," Kyoya says after he spots the familiar bento box.

"Oh," Tetsuya blinks surprised. "This isn't for you, Kyo-san."

Kyoya pauses. He's halfway reaching a rag on his desk drawer. His face goes carefully blank as he moves again with feline grace. Fighting always leaves him bloodthirsty.

"She made you lunch?" He asks, voice oddly somber.

"Yes. I didn't ask her to. She just came and handed it."

Kyoya leans against his desk, eyeing his subordinate. Tetsuya desperately wishes for someone to barge in, or for his phone to ring. He feels like he's in the wrong end of an interrogation.

"You're not going to discard it?"

"I didn't say that," Tetsuya says, going red around the ears.

"Then eat it."

Tetsuya flushes, embarrassed but unsure as of why. He feels like he's been caught sneaking dirty magazines to school. "Now?" He asks, avoiding Kyoya's ostensibly uninterested stare.

"Do I have to repeat myself?" Kyoya taps the table twice with a fingernail. It's not necessarily a threat, but a promise of what is coming should Tetsuya flounder once more. Tetsuya murmurs a short prayer as he unwraps the utensils stuck on the side of the box and braces himself for the most uncomfortable meal of his life.

"You're the worst," he tells her later at the park. Nana is talking to Tsuna by their designated bench. The woman brought other children too. A pair of five-year-olds –one of them a mafioso's child and the sandy-haired kid Tetsuya recognizes from Kokuyo land. He looks better now; cheeks no longer hollow from his week of starvation.

She blinks at him, honestly confused as she takes her phone. "Why? Did I do something?"

Tetsuya sighs. The stray dogs bump against his legs, whining for food. They've missed his company.

"Your bento–"

"I didn't poison it!" Rosetta declares quickly, with a small frown. "It's –it's overcooked isn't it? I should have gone for something easier although Reborn-san appreciated it."

To be honest, Tetsuya couldn't taste anything. His taste buds seemed to have frozen in mortification.

"You made him food too?" He tries to look for the tutor, but he's missing.

"Yes," she says, typing something on her phone, her fingers quick. "Rita is leaving the hospital today. I advised her to rest for another week even though she didn't want to. I should have informed you first."

"I was planning to do the same," Tetsuya rubs his face with a large palm. "Was it your idea to give me lunch?"

"It was Reborn-san. He said I should learn to appreciate you better," Rosetta absently pats him on the shoulder, eyes trained to the screen.

Tetsuya sighs. He never outwardly disliked the tutor, but there is something wrong with him –a seemingly young assassin. The sight of him brings him back to his childhood. It was raining when the boss' exiled brother appeared in an unwelcome visit. Tetsuya, having little understanding of the world marveled at his appearance. The man remained young despite being the boss' older sibling, wearing red that matched a glass pacifier around his neck.

He didn't ask questions because they taught him to be quiet.

"Reborn-san also said I should do it so you can learn to trust me," Rosetta continues, tongue in cheek, looking awfully her age. "I think it's stupid."

"How so?"

She taps her phone faster. He looks over her shoulder. Rosetta is updating her recipes. "Well, you already trust me, do you not?"

"I don't trust anybody," he finds himself saying to his surprise. The dogs are insistent, whipping their tails. Some have already flopped to their bellies, confused at Tetsuya's cold reception.

"That's dumb too," Rosetta tucks her phone back, crossing her arms.

"I thought that's the motto of you Mafioso," he tells her. "Surely you have experiences."

Rosetta doesn't flinch although an expression crosses her face. He's touched a sore subject. "Surely you trust my husband, he trusts you. I think." She gnaws at her lip.

"It doesn't have to be mutual," he mutters, mocking her. Rosetta barks out a short laugh that startles the dogs. The kids jump too, surprised. The one with the afro approaches her tentatively, extending a stick at her direction. Rosetta narrows her eyes at the child and says something in a dialect he doesn't know. It sounds Italian though.

"If you don't trust anyone, you might as well go into the forest and live your life as a hermit," she says to him. The kid with the afro wails something in Italian too fast for Tetsuya to understand. "Trust isn't black or white. For one, I trust you to execute Kyoya-san's best intentions, but I don't trust you to save me over him." She pats him on the shoulder again. "Don't let fear shape you."

He shuffles uncomfortably. "Are you calling me a coward?"

She lifts her chin. "No. I'm telling you that it's not your fault that the boss is a massive dick. That your near death wasn't of your doing. You were merely… convenient to use at the moment."

That's not what he expects.

"Rokudo Mukuro–"

"Yes!" She runs a hand through her hair, looking away. "He took over Kyoya-san. And I wouldn't have known too if Iwasaki-sensei wasn't swooning over our imaginary romance. I was just lucky."

"You were just lucky," he repeats. He's thought of this too and felt bad about it. Hearing it brings a sense of relief in his chest even if she's only said it to cheer him up. He'll think of it tonight, when he tries to sleep again, maybe to ward off the insistent nightmares of staring into the barrel of the boss' gun.

"Are you going to stop sulking now? I want a report on Byakuran and you've been slacking off." She stabs a finger against his rib, exactly in the same way the Bovino kid is stabbing at his leg with a branch. He hasn't been slacking off on the contrary, and she knows it. Byakuran is terrifyingly efficient at erasing his steps. She's been mocking him for it since last week. The reminder soils his mood.

"You ruined it," Tetsuya gives her a sour look which she raises an eyebrow at. He ignores Lambo, now surrounded by dogs that try to sniff him. He pats her shoulder too, awkwardly and as friendly as he can manage. "You're also my best friend."

He has never seen Rosetta happy as she is at the present. He allows Tsuna to go home for the weekend through his request. Tetsuya puts three of his trusted men to guard the house, giving them no room for complaint. Later they visit Rita at the hospital and wheelchairs her out after filling out her paperwork. Rosetta unwittingly harasses the hospital crew with her entourage of armed detail. They visit the maid's house, just near the school and go home without a hitch.

"You're happy today," he hears Iwasaki's voice faintly from the balcony above, as Tetsuya recites to Kyoya his daily report. It is early evening. They are by the house entrance as Kyoya's schedule permits. Rosetta is often left alone upstairs with her musings but lately, the doctor has been accompanying her. He never knew that their voices could be overheard from so far above, judging by Kyoya's distracted countenance, he didn't know too.

"Tetsuya-san finally agreed to be my buddy!" Rosetta exclaims with honest laughter.

Tetsuya freezes, tapering off his report. Something sharp and dangerous flashes through Kyoya's eyes, carefully smoothed over with a frown.

"Why did you stop?" Kyoya tilts his head to the side, challenging.

"Nothing, Kyo-san. As I was saying the–"

Kyoya puts his hand up, narrowing his eyes. The sound of Rosetta's laughter spills again into the night. Chime bells, lady-like and to Tetsuya, he thinks with a cold realization that it's the laughter before his head is placed on the guillotine, with her pulling the lever.

Kyoya is jealous.

His boss is jealous.

"Kyo-san, it's not what you think," Tetsuya tries desperately and snaps his mouth shut before he can say anything else, realizing far too late the position he's put himself into. Sweat rolls from his brows.

"It's not what I think?" Kyoya starts.

"Kyo-san–" words fail Tetsuya. Even in the dark, he sees Kyoya's pupils dilate. The man prowls inwards like how a wolf will to a wounded rabbit. Sympathetic nervous system. The fight-or-flight response. And he has never known Kyoya to flee a battlefield.

"And in what world would I have come to that conclusion?" Kyoya's weapons are out.

Tetsuya's face is frozen in the incriminating grimace of an honest man marching to his death.

"Well?"

Tetsuya hears a whimper and cringes outwardly when he realizes that it's his voice. "It's _really_ not what you think," he insists because he knows all of Kyoya's moods and his irrationalities –the twins got better toys when he was younger– and his jealousies only led to two outcomes: violence and seething that often led to violence still.

Tetsuya shuts his eyes and prays for seething.

"I'll bite you to death."

* * *

 **A Note to the Reader:** This one has a few cliches. (/∇≦*) To better understand Kyoya's character I actually spent some time rereading the manga, and guess what I saw? The man is an overdramatic drama queen who revolves from poetic sentences, one-liners, threats and poetic sentences. He probably thinks "I'll bite you to death" sounds darn cool and is embarrassed by it in the future. He just can't stop because he's too prideful to admit that he was such a nerd during middle school! I don't know. I made of fun of him for a whole 2 minutes before I realized that I was making fun of myself as well because when I was 13 I thought he was the hottest and the coolest character out there. (I still think he's pretty damn cool)

The update will probably be at the same day next week. I hope you enjoyed this one! Because I had fun writing it!


	11. Gymnopédies

**A Note to The Readers:** Hello! It feels like a long time since I've updated. Even if it's only been a week. Well... last week seemed quite long for me, school was tiring and I was constantly exhausted. I had some free time today and decided to use it wisely by not procrastinating on this! It's was strangely difficult to write this one. Maybe because I'm tired... what the heck...

I'd like to give thanks to my new followers, those who liked this story enough to favorite it and to Nea-nyx, akagami, Aines and Devil's Blade for your kind words!

You have now reached the landmark that is chapter ten. There is no going back. You are impressive to have made this far. (人･∀･) (ﾟ∀ﾟ人)

* * *

 **CHAPTER TEN**

Gymnopédies

* * *

Enomoto Touma is trying his best to keep a straight face, but it's difficult with Rosetta beside him, arms crossed with a half-scowl on her face -he doesn't know her enough to discern the other half. He received a call yesterday evening from his vice-chairman, namely Tetsuya Kusakabe, informing him of an accident. Apparently, a bus struck him and he won't be able to attend the morning lineup. At first, Enomoto was giddy with anticipation. First, it's not every day that the vice-chairman gives you a private phone call. Second, the vice-chairman asked him to lead the lineup, unfortunately as Rosetta's assistant. He politely voiced his opinions as any concerned committee member was ought to do, but the vice-chairman was adamant that the chairman's wife had experience in leading men and that he should show her the ropes. He is not comfortable with the thought of handing leadership to someone he doesn't know, but he trusts the vice-chairman and the truth of it is that the vice-chairman trusts him. Why would he call if he didn't? The thought makes him preen.

Rosetta raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the lineup. The men look at each other uncomfortably.

Rosetta sighs.

"All right men, gather around now," she says, gesturing inwards. Enomoto cringes.

"Hibari-san," he whispers, trying not to look at the blood red armband pinned on her shoulder. It doesn't belong there. It belongs to Tetsuya-san. It belongs to the committee's men who have said their vows. He tries not to think of favoritism. Kusakabe-san is far greater than that. "Hibari-san it's 'attention' not gather around."

She looks up at him. It's necessary to do so, Enomoto is a giant.

"Do you want to do this, Enomoto-san?" Rosetta asks with a small patient smile.

Enomoto blushes despite himself. He looks away, trying to seem invested in the bleak sunrise. It's a trick question, he knows it. She will give him a verbal lashing if he says yes. Or maybe she'll ask him to stand under the sun for disrespecting her authority. He's seen the vice-chairman in his angrier days.

"No Hibari-san," he says, saluting.

Rosetta sighs again, she looks oddly disappointed. It feels like a victory to Enomoto. He doesn't allow it to trick him. He knows she's only disappointed because she has no reason to yell at him. She's the chairman's wife, after all, a terrifying woman to have snared the heart of Namimori's demon chief.

"Don't salute. I'm not Tetsuya-san."

"You are in his shoes now, Hibari-san," he salutes again, shining with keenness.

"Massive shoes," she mumbles. Rosetta looks around, clicking her tongue at the men. "Oi! What did I say? I said to gather around!" For a second they look at each other in confusion. Obviously, she loses her patience because she yells again. "What are you? Scattered hens? Lineup!"

The men straighten and arrange themselves in perfect lines. Enomoto counts fifty of Namimori's best. Rosetta crosses her arms once more, assessing the men with a burningly intense look.

"Enomoto-san, Tetsuya-san told me you can speak Mandarin," Rosetta whispers in the said language, narrowing her gaze at the sight of Sakamoto's sweaty forehead. Enomoto notes to remind Sakamoto to stay hydrated.

"Yes I can," Enomoto replies in the same tongue, slightly elated. "My mother was from Sichuan."

"That explains the accent," she mumbles. "What does Tetsuya-san usually do?"

Enomoto swells with pride. "We sing the school anthem, ma'am."

"The school anthem?" Rosetta deflates with what it seems to be sheer embarrassment. Again, Enomoto doesn't allow her artlessness to trick him. "And then what?"

Enomoto can see apprehension among the ranks. He answers quickly. "We make sure our uniform is immaculate."

"Including the hair?"

He nods brightly. "Especially the hair, ma'am."

A pained sound slips from her throat as she scans the crowd.

"Are you sure you'd rather be my assistant? Tetsuya-san said you're eager for a promotion. Are you sure you'd rather have me on the helm?"

Enomoto smiles to himself. She's quite cunning. But he's hasn't earned the vice-chairman's trust for being easily swayed. He tells her that the helm is hers alone.

Rosetta says something in Italian, a few curses if Enomoto is correct. Perhaps she is lamenting the fact that he is quite tenacious. He always believes he is smarter than he looks, this is proof. Another victory for the disciplinary committee.

"All right men," she says lamely, waving a hand. "You can all start checking your hair and… and…stuff."

* * *

"Tetsuya-san, I can't do it," Rosetta's voice echoes over the phone.

Tetsuya cracks his swollen eyes open. He's at the infirmary at home, under the warm sheets of Rosetta's bed. Her pillow smells like lavender.

"We don't have any choice," he mumbles, taking the phone from Iwasaki-sensei, voicing his thanks. The doctor moves to the massive windows, pulling the curtains open to let the light in. Tetsuya blocks his eyes with his arm.

"I _have_ a choice," she says sharply. His phone's speakers make her sound a touch waspish. Water damage perhaps… Kyoya chased him far into the koi pond yesterday. The gardeners are furious. Rosetta continues: "but you don't have one. Your committee is terrible." He can hear the Namimori anthem playing over her voice, oddly enough; he feels a sense of bliss.

"There is nothing wrong with our committee, it's a well-oiled machine."

"It's _your_ committee."

"Ah," Tetsuya says, understanding dawns to him, and he tells her, chuckling: "you're still young to be embarrassed about how the committee presents itself as a singular unit."

Rosetta breathes in. "Enomoto-san says that the hair is good for morale."

"Represents unity."

"And somehow you've given up on yours?" She growls into his ear after a period of silence. "Young enough to be embarrassed my ass. You're embarrassed too!" She continues, unrepentant. "I'll hand the operation to Enomoto-san."

"Enomoto doesn't understand how to file my paperwork–"

"And now it's my job?" She trills. "How the hell did you get yourself too beaten to stand?"

"I told you," Tetsuya says slowly, with much patience in his tone, "I didn't fight back, Kyo-san must have thought I was insulting him by staying still."

"Enomoto-san said you were hit by a bus. Why did– never mind, we've had this conversation before. You'll just lead me in circles."

"I will," Tetsuya agrees. He has been too embarrassed to say what Kyoya punished him for, despite much goading from Rosetta. He's not sure either if it's for something he's done in the past or an accumulation of his mistakes. He imagines a cup full of his sins, spilling over from the weight of his inability to recognize Mukuro. Again, he reminds himself that he's not at fault. His tone softens then, much less professional and far more appropriate for friends, and for pleading favors. "It's only for a few days until I can get up on my feet. The men are good people–"

"Stop that." Rosetta sounds genuinely annoyed. "Half of them are criminals."

"You are a criminal," Tetsuya says too quickly.

"Do you think I was claiming moral ground?" She nearly yells. He inches the phone away from his ear. "I know better than that!"

"Rosetta-san, I'm asking help as a friend."

"As a friend! True friends don't say that!"

"And I assume you have a lot of experience to draw that conclusion from?"

She is silent for a beat.

"It sounds like you're using me."

Tetsuya's voice hardens, "you can't trick me by playing the victim. You have to work on your sincerity. Besides, I'll pay you back two-fold."

An embarrassed grumble escapes from her throat. The anthem behind her dies down. In ten minutes he knows that the late-comers will begin filing in. If Kyoya is in a good mood he'll make an appearance. He wishes for the opposite, just this once.

"Fine," Rosetta says after a long period of grudging silence. "Fine," she says again, it sounds better. "I'll do what I can but only until I lose all patience. If I do, I'll hand authority to Enomoto-san. Is that okay?"

Tetsuya allows himself to feel relieved. "Thank you."

"Now, how do I _order_ Enomoto-san to stop saluting?"

* * *

Yamazaki is earning notoriety points ever since he decided that lateness is an effective method to rebel against the iron hold of the Disciplinary Committee. Yeah, that's it, rebellion. He's definitely rebelling. He is not late because he secretly watches dramas in the wee hours of the morning, definitely not.

He finds that if he squeals, pleads and whimpers on the ground, the committee lets him go with a simple cuff in the ears. Today, just after he's on his hands and feet, Hibari-san saunters to him, face pinched with impatience.

She eyes him distastefully. "What are you doing?" She asks, "are you a man or an animal?"

"Hibari-san," he says in awe and judging by the dark look that crosses her face, she's tired of seeing the same response.

"Get up."

There's no choice but to listen to her. She has the armband and most of the committee is behind her, imposing albeit looking a touch awkward.

"Why are you late?" She asks, bringing out a clipboard.

"Why am I…. late?" Yamazaki repeats nervously, standing up. The grit under his palms feels uncomfortable. He tries to wipe it off with the cloth of his pants and grimaces as dirt smears against it. He can already hear his mother's complaints.

Hibari-san groans. "Christ," she says, massaging the bridge of her nose "what do they teach you in this school? Why are you fifteen minutes late?"

Behind her, Enomoto-san slams his fist against his palm and leers. Enomoto-san's build is intimidating on its own.

Yamazaki is terrified.

Hibari-san looks back and swats Enomoto-san's fist with a snarl.

"Stop that!" she says and then she turns to him, "why the hell are you late? I just need to write it down and then you're free to go."

"I didn't wake up on time," he says, too startled to think of a lie. Hibari-san watches him expectantly. "I –uh…" he peers at Enomoto-san's imposing figure, to the men on the back with their arms crossed and their brows furrowed. He decides it's not worth to rebel, that he values his life more than his reputation. This is the chairman's _wife_ after all. According to Fujioka-san she went up to the chairman's father and demanded marriage when she was _twelve._ Kusakabe-san has always been strict, but he has always been fair. And now he's gone, probably rotting in a gutter somewhere, replaced with the wife.

" –I –uh…. –I…."

He looks up at her eyes, iridescent and bright in the way how light hits glass. Hibari-san smiles. It's a terrible smile that weakens his knees, sharp like knives and imperious in its beauty. Yamazaki is breathless, finds himself terrified out of his wits.

"I'm sorry! Hibari-san I'm sorry. I was watching Korean drama! I was– I'm sorry! I'll be early from now on! I'll be early!" His knees hit the ground painfully. "I'm so sorry!"

Hibari-san is oddly silent, he braves looking up after a whole minute of his face plastered on the ground. There's nothing behind her eyes. Yamazaki shivers.

"Just–" she sighs looking away, her eyebrows scrunched. "Just…Go to class."

Relief floods his features, he grapples with his bag and flees to his classroom, adamant to save himself if she decides to flog him. The chairman's wife must be in a good mood. Tonight, he's going watch his drama to celebrate.

* * *

"Hibari-san," Enomoto calls when the student is out of her sight. "Are you alright?"

Rosetta's mood sours further. She tried to give the poor student a nice smile, perhaps to coax him into talking. It wasn't effective. Her confidence wanes as he's not the first one to beg. One of her classmates cried, apologizing profusely as she clutched her bag as if Rosetta will uncoil from her mortal form and swallow her alive.

She sees Gokudera's silhouette from the school gate. He's late too. Well, that's expected.

"Don't call me Hibari-san," she says, avoiding the question. "You can call me Rosetta-san, please. You've been putting up with me since morning." Plus, Hibari-san will always be the boss to her. Hearing his name passed around casually makes her skin crawl.

"Nice try," Enomoto chuckles to himself as she tries not to roll her eyes.

"Gokudera-san, please hurry up!" she calls. "You're late for class!"

Gokudera leers and to her exasperation, walks slower, flipping off committee members who try and berate him. Rosetta raises a hand to stop the men from attacking him. Most of the committee's men are excellent fighters when pitted against civilians but Gokudera is a seasoned combatant. Blood will be shed. "I'll handle him later," she lies to placate their mood.

"Attack him when he least expects it I see," Enomoto nods sagely. "You're exceptional, Hibari-san."

Rosetta sighs.

* * *

Her lunch is miso soup, a cup of rice, fish, and a bowl of seasonal vegetables swimming in bland broth. Rosetta didn't bother to prepare breakfast that morning to the joy of the household maids who, for once, doesn't have to clean after her. She is holding her tray of food, eyeing Tetsuya's very organized desk when her husband walks in.

"You're supposed to be in class," Kyoya points out. They regard each other openly, he and his bloody uniform, polished shoes, perfectly pressed trousers, and his weapons caked with flaking blood and she, tucked under a thick blue knitted sweater -one of Rita's later projects- and the committee armband pinned on her shoulder. He narrows his eyes at the sight of that.

"I want to, but…Tetsuya-san asked me to assist him." Rosetta puts her tray down on Tetsuya's desk, lifting a stack of folders. "I didn't know you have several pending cases. Aggravated assault, battery, assault with a deadly weapon… this pile can land you thirty years of jail time."

"They'll dismiss it," Kyoya says, rounding to his desk. He opens his drawer and finds his cleaning rag, washed and pressed. Rosetta notes that she needs to replace that every morning. "What are you doing here?"

"I just said-"

"I didn't ask you to come here, you're not needed."

"I'm trying to help someone you put in the infirmary," she says slowly. "If work piles up, it will trouble for all of us." Not to mention she has her own work to do. Tetsuya is the largest working cog in Namimori, despite Ryuusei's treatment of him.

"The committee is no place for a non-combatant."

Rosetta slams her fist on the table. The desk rattles, a pen holder crashes to the floor, one of the pencils roll accusingly to her feet. Then she curls inward, clutching her aching hand. That was a mistake. "Kyoya-san, I wasn't able to sleep last night and my day has been terrible and it's not even two in the afternoon." She rubs her face. "I'm not asking for kindness, but some courtesy will be appreciated. My presence here is thankfully temporary. If I don't file his paperwork, you will have to do it. And I don't think you want to."

He looks sharply at her but says nothing.

"Thank you," Rosetta says, wrestling a clipboard from her bag. She sorts Tetsuya's paperwork and files the more important ones into her bag. The man codes his files meticulously, colored markers and tab dividers. It's difficult not to get cross-eyed when she dives into her husband's court cases. She's always been at odds with the law. She doesn't know how Tetsuya can bear to read this. She calls him and finds out that she needs to meet with Kyoya's _lawyer_.

"I'll arrange someone else to do it," she says, thinking of Enomoto.

"Fujioka is a better speaker," Tetsuya replies. Rosetta doesn't know who Fujioka is; they all look the same to her.

"Fine, is there anything else?"

"I also need you to–"

She ends the call with a grimly satisfied look on her face. Her phone rings immediately, but she tosses it in her bag and continues filing until she can't handle Kyoya's pervasive stare.

"What is it?" She asks, trying to smile.

"You disapprove of my work."

Rosetta opens her mouth, breathes and then looks at him with her eyebrows raised, her irritation is momentarily forgotten. She folds down a ledger filled with salary accounts. Talking to Kyoya sometimes felt like running through a minefield with a blindfold on, not that she didn't appreciate his latest efforts.

"This is getting confusing. What are we talking about?"

"You don't like the disciplinary committee."

"There's nothing much to like about it," Rosetta says after weighing the pros and cons of lying. Telling the truth seems to be the best option for her in the long run. "They're a fine group, I admit, but there's not much it can do but to terrorize citizens. You could save more time and money by using your father's resources."

"Hn," Kyoya looks away.

That must have been the wrong thing to say. Ordinarily, she wouldn't care, but he has been oddly warm to her, warmer at least, compared to his frigid attitude when she first arrived. She likes him better when he's not actively threatening her.

"No," she says, "I'll take that back."

"Trying to appeal to my vanity are you?" Kyoya leans back on his seat and lifts his feet up the table.

"I'm thinking that you don't say nor do things without purpose," Rosetta continues filing, careful not to exude any sign of discomfort. Of course she's trying to appeal to his vanity! "The disciplinary committee might be a gang of thugs, but I guess they're far more useful as they are now rather than before. You have several parolees loyal to you. That is impressive stuff."

She peers at him. He's staring back, quite surprised.

"What I don't like is this," she gestures to the assault charges.

His surprise fades to wariness. Rosetta reminds herself that he is cleaning his weapons, not brandishing them. Kyoya is not Enomoto.

"You don't like to involve yourself with the law?"

Rosetta bends down to clear the scattered pens. "Not even the mafia can avoid the law. There are the Vendicare Policies and the normal law. You can bend both to your favor if you're smart enough." She looks at him again, he's still staring. "I think it's unnecessary to have so many charges in your name, regardless whether or not the police dismisses their complaints. This might bite you in the ass in the future."

His lip curls at her use of language, but adds nothing to the conversation.

"Who is this even?" Rosetta says after five minutes of silence, opening a file of complaint. "Fuchida Arata…" She looks at the address and blinks. "He's Kyoko's neighbor…" There's a photo attached. The poor man is mottled with large bruises, and his jaw was sewed shut after Kyoya broke it to pieces. "What did he do to you?"

"He beats his children."

Rosetta looks at the man again, he seems so unassuming. It shouldn't be a surprise to her, even the Vongola Ninth looks like a harmless old man. She brings out a new folder. "How about this guy?"

"Rapist."

He is now paralyzed from the waist down. That's strangely humorous to her. Her lip twitches in a small smile.

"The police can't handle him?"

"The woman didn't report."

Rosetta inspects a few more pictures, scans through a few folders.

"I don't think my opinion matters to you, whether I like or dislike what you do in your spare time," Rosetta tries after she's read through all, feeling a burst of bizarre affection in her chest. This doesn't prove that he's a good man, but it proves that he's not entirely disgusting. A skewed sense of justice is still justice… or is it? She needs to ask Iwasaki-sensei. "But I appreciate what you do for Namimori."

She risks another glance at him. Kyoya doesn't reply. She exhales. Good, she said the right thing, and she has been honest about it.

Kyoya straightens eventually, just as she's done with the rest of the papers and asks her to put her bag down.

"What for?" Rosetta asks, dialing Tetsuya again.

"We're going on patrol."

Rosetta pauses. "We're–I am… You just came back from one." She watches him tuck his weapons back, now bloodless.

"The men don't respect you. You need to fix that. Accompany me."

Her face flushes in embarrassment. Tetsuya answers the phone, but she shuts it. "Of course they don't respect me. They think it's nepotism." She wouldn't touch Tetsuya's position if he didn't nearly go to his knees and beg last night. It was humiliating for both of them. And besides, she has paperwork to do. "Kyoya-san, I can't."

He lifts his chin. He looks like his father this way. Even in his best moods, Rosetta knows better than to point that out.

"Why not?" He asks.

She gestures to Tetsuya's paperwork, but even that seems to be a weak argument.

"Fine," she says, trying to keep her tone light. "Where are we going? Do I need to bring an umbrella?"

He is unmoved by her smile.

"Not if you want respect," he looks out the window, "this should put color to your skin. Come."

* * *

" –that's all we found out. Are you sure you want to call off the investigation?"

"It's all I need. You'll receive your payment before sunset," Reborn says over the phone. The Hibari household is still under repair. It's been two months since Mukuro destroyed the house. Reborn has no doubt that Ryuusei is prolonging repairs. If the man was home, the worker's efficiency would be very different. Winter is afoot and the chill seeping like fog under Tsuna's bedroom door is unwelcome.

"Is that business?" Tsuna asks, sweating through two shirts at once. He's doing homework, mathematics. There's a protractor on his desk and several crayons. It's a mess. Reborn plans to ask Tsuna to rewrite his work, teachers care about neatness. A few points might pull his grades from abysmal to laughable.

"If it is, it's not yours," Rita says with her usual pleasant mask. "Come on, you only have two questions left."

"I'm not gonna get it right anyway," Tsuna whines.

Rita smacks him over the head.

"Ow! Even Hibari-san doesn't hit me!" Tsuna rubs the back of his head.

"The madam is busy," Rita says, although she inspects Tsuna's skull for damage. "She found me loitering in the kitchens and directed me to you."

"You're not being paid to be my tutor though," Tsuna points out, reluctantly taking his pen. The next question asks about the distance from point b to c from a very complicated looking triangle. He groans.

"But I'm useful here," Rita says. "The senior maids saw me sweeping the garden and nearly tied me to a chair."

"Well, you were shot," Tsuna slowly puts his pen down, elated that nobody notices. Right until Reborn whacks him in the hand.

"Yes," Rita says, thawing. "And I know Kusakabe-san re-employed me early so I can feed my grandparents."

Tsuna opens his mouth.

Rita tries to hide a fond smile. "The madam also warned me that if I chat you up, she'll be very disappointed."

Tsuna closes his mouth.

"Where is she?" Reborn asks the maid.

"Well," Rita leans back, trying not to aggravate her stitches. "I heard from the men that the boss was able to dispose of Sergio Provenzano. Didn't leave a body to bury. The madam must be in a conference with the boss again, it's not wise to disturb her. She might be in one of her moods again."

"Indeed," Reborn says neutrally.

Tsuna looks like he has something to say but Reborn pins him with a look. The boy swallows audibly then he shakes his head. Rosetta has rubbed off him. "What do you mean didn't leave a body to bury?" his voice wavers though.

Rita's face pales a little. "They said the boss found a café in the city, evacuated it and planted Sergio in with a ton of explosives. Sergio took seven men to his death when Nicodemo tried to rescue him. It's all over the news."

"What the fuck," Tsuna says.

"Language!" Rita berates him.

Tsuna reddens. "I'm sick and tired of this," he says, without aplomb. "I hate this… I hate all of these killings. I'm tired of this mafia business and I'm tired of dragging my friends into it."

Tsuna stands and shakes off Rita's hand when she puts it on his shoulder.

Reborn clicks his tongue. "Tsuna, if this is about Dino the other day–"

"It's not about Dino-san" Tsuna yells, and seems to swallow his tongue when Reborn visibly frowns. Dino went by to visit days ago to Rosetta's veiled suspicion. They climbed up the Death Mountain again for training. Ryohei fell down a cliff face and broke his arm, trying to save Yamamoto who ended up uninjured. "Everyone is killing each other for the stupidest reasons," Tsuna whispers.

Reborn rolls his eyes.

"I can't believe you're not taking me seriously," Tsuna says, going even redder.

"That's because you're being stupid."

"I only want my friends safe."

"Who do you think your friends are?" Reborn says before he shuts his mouth with an audible click. He rarely loses his patience. He normally catches himself before he says something he'll regret. With Tsuna, he realizes now that he needs to be careful. He's getting attached to the boss candidate. He remembers Luce and lets out a bitter sound. It jolts Tsuna from his roundabout thoughts of self-depreciation. Tsuna looks at him in a way an entomologist does to a collection of pinned insects. It's likely that Tsuna doesn't know he does this when his intuition flickers to life. Another reason why his classmates dislike him.

"Yamamoto-kun isn't a civilian, isn't he? And Sasagawa-niisan…"

"Ryohei is an impressive civilian." Reborn manages. The crawling feeling under his skin dies when Tsuna looks away.

"And Yamamoto-kun?"

Reborn wonders if he should prevaricate, but decides against it.

"His father worked for Ryuusei until he suffered a permanent injury. He's retired now."

"Like Kusakabe-san?"

"Tsuyoshi was Ryuusei's favored hitman. He was excellent in his field."

Tsuna's lips fold into a thin line.

"You chose my friends for me, didn't you?"

"I did," Reborn admits. "But they chose you."

Tsuna meets his eyes. "Hibari-san said if I really want to learn anything from you I should listen carefully to what you say."

"And she's correct."

"She is," Tsuna agrees. "How long did my father plan my future for me?"

The room goes frigid. Rita clears her throat. "I think I remember Noya-san telling me to tidy up the pantry." She shoots Tsuna a worried look and limps out with her crutches.

"Why the sudden interest?" Reborn settles on Tsuna's bed, his hands on his knees.

"I will not answer that," Tsuna says, trying not to cringe at himself. "I'm listening carefully to what you're saying and you've been avoiding questions about the Vongola."

Reborn's lip twists in a way it does before he says something scathing.

"Because you're not ready yet," he says instead.

"When will I be ready?"

"When I say so," Reborn frowns. "If you want to interrogate me, you've already lost."

"I'm not trying to interrogate you," Tsuna looks pained now. He doesn't even want to look at Reborn in the eyes by this point. His hands are shaking too, likely cool and clammy. Confrontation is never his strong suit, not even to someone with the physical age of five. Tsuna hasn't slept well since they went down from the mountain either. Reborn observes the little details and hides it in a box, to open it for later when he's strong enough to bear the guilt. Tsuna has always differed from Dino, who grew into adulthood knowing he'd lead his famiglia one day. What he sees in Tsuna is what he gets, or at least, that's what he foolishly thought.

"I want to know the truth, the whole of it," Tsuna says in a small voice.

"I vowed to keep secrets, Tsuna. I can't tell you everything," Reborn's jaw clicks.

Tsuna slumps on his seat. "You think I deserve to know something, though, don't you? You try to make the mafia look fun. I notice it sometimes. But I also see Hibari-san and… this." He gestures to his room. "I miss my mom, but sometimes I don't want to go home. I feel like I might bring the mafia to her." He tops this with a sad chuckle that sounds pathetic even to his ears.

"I'll tell you. I promise, but for now, I need you to trust me," Reborn says.

"I trust you," Tsuna says, with his innate honesty that the hitman always found fascinating.

* * *

Rosetta doesn't move from her spot when the door slides open. She has familiarized herself with the tread of her companions after the unfortunate accident in the infirmary. Tsuna, akin to his outwardly fragile bone structure plods around like an oversized bird. Tetsuya glides, unlike the others. Iwasaki gallops. Kyoko walks evenly, heel to toes in short strides. Hana stomps like a bear. Kyoya walks like Kyoko, except his long legs allow for more space between his footfalls.

Reborn walks soundlessly.

He blinks at her state, curled atop a dusty crate of children's clothes. Possibly Mutsuo's judging from the sheer amount, parents tend to over-purchase clothing for the first child. She's at the attic, or at one of the attics. Reborn isn't sure if he's been in this part of the house before. He needed to interview sixteen staff before he could piece out a generalization of where Rosetta is. It was a tiresome process, one that left him in a sour mood.

"Are you all right?" Reborn tries with politeness.

She peers at him through her eyelashes, knees hugged against her chest. She's grown a touch tanned from following her husband around in his afternoon patrols for a week until Tetsuya could take over. Color suits her, she looks healthier.

"You're not exactly welcome here, Reborn-sensei. Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow."

His face twitches.

"Civility necessitates that I tell you as soon as possible," Reborn pauses, looking around to Rosetta's displeasure. He finds no one, senses nothing, although he can hear the muffled chirps of a canary nest by the glass window. The yellow birds have been dropping by ever since the Kokuyo incident. Perhaps they followed their master's killer home. He looks around again and his eyes land on the singular piece of furniture without a slight film of dust.

It's not furniture. It's an upright piano. Beside it is a table covered in a dust sheet. There are a glass and a pitcher of water sitting atop, along with her cellphone. She's been there for a while.

"It's the middle of the night," he remarks, jumping up to stand on the crate she's sitting on. "Can they hear you?"

Rosetta bites her lip, clearly embarrassed to have turned into that deep of a scarlet. "The music –the noise is muffled if you close the door. I haven't heard of any complaints yet."

"Can you still play?" Reborn doesn't look at the scar on her hand. Doing so would be fruitless. Rosetta didn't bother to open the lights.

"It's terrible."

"Will you play for me?"

"The piano is not tuned."

"I don't mind."

Rosetta turns away, lip curling into a halfhearted grimace. She will reject him. He expects as much and is wholly surprised when she concedes. "Children's songs, nothing else," she says and purses her lips. "But it will sound bad," she warns.

She puts her hands on the keys and hesitates.

"I want the door closed, please." She gestures to the wide opening behind her. It's their only light source.

"There's nobody in this part of the house," Reborn assures her.

She seems to consider before she nods and stares at her fingers for a while, clenching and unclenching her fists. Outwardly nothing seems to be off with her left hand, but eventually, he sees it. A minor tick, two of her fingers seem to tremble ever so slightly.

Rosetta breathes in and plays.

It doesn't sound like a children's lullaby. The music she plays is vaguely familiar, slow and sleepy and nostalgic in an uncomfortable way. Reborn doesn't really enjoy music, it's beautiful, yes, but he never found the urge to seek actively the stimulation. Nevertheless, he can identify the oddity of her performance, small mistakes peppered between the lilting melodies. She plays two more pieces until she makes another mistake and stops halfway through the final song.

"You can laugh," she says, exhaling, showing her teeth. It's more of a wince than a smile. "I'm sorry. I should have refused you."

"It's not funny," Reborn pushes up from his seat, propping himself higher. He's now atop a stack of crates marked as old silverware, smelling lightly of old pine. "When did you first learn?"

"Learned it on my mother's lap, then from my tutors when I surpassed her," she says this with a hint of pride. Then her face falls.

"I'm sorry that it happened," he gestures to her hand.

"Actions have consequences," Rosetta mutters, waving his platitudes off as if his words were a swarm of mosquitoes. "What is the use of music if one is not alive to hear it?"

Reborn's lips twist into a frown so prominent that she notices it even in the dark.

"Did I say something wrong?" She asks, mirroring his expression.

"I found your family's killers," Reborn says without pause, searching for contrition.

To her credit, she doesn't tense. Rosetta drags her fingers down her skirt and patiently waits for him to continue.

Reborn sighs. "It's the Varia."

"I had a feeling it was," she says honestly after a long uncomfortable pause. "Will you tell me who gave the order? Or who paid them? Or does that require another favor?" She's not looking at him, good. She's not crying too, even better.

"Your mother played the piano well," Reborn starts.

She shoots him a disappointed glare, but follows his train thought anyways. "I didn't know you knew her."

"She was ambitious."

"And she hated her children eventually when they grew," Rosetta says without malice.

"But she was ambitious," Reborn presses. "She strengthened your family with allies."

"By opening her legs to men who'd do so little as to look at her twice," Rosetta replies dismissively.

Reborn shakes his head. "I thought you liked her."

"I love her still and I always think about her, but that doesn't mean I can't see her flaws. My father grew cold when I turned eleven. I grew to look too much like her."

"She was the one who wanted you to marry Xanxus."

Rosetta's lip curls as the distance between them grow. "Horse trading. Look how that played out. Nobody wanted him you know? He was insane." The women lined up for Massimo instead, the ninth's second son, even when he was a known philanderer.

"Do you know what happened to him after the massacre?"

"Everyone knows," Rosetta says, looking away. "It was even in the news."

"Tell me."

"I don't see the point of this conversation."

Reborn breathes through his nose in irritation. "As much as you'd like to deny it, you do talk like your husband. Play along with me, unless you have something far more important to do."

Pink dusts her cheeks. She hasn't learned to control that impulse yet, perhaps in a few years. Reborn knows a handful of women who could blush at will.

Rosetta yields.

"Xanxus, newly minted as the chief of the Varia, and his assassins and numerous insurgents staged an unsuccessful coup d'état against the ninth. His whereabouts now are unknown. I think he's in jail. Rumor says he's in Vendicare."

"Never heard about that rumor."

"He involved civilians," she points out. The Varia reduced a whole block of housing to rubble to annihilate Coyote, the ninth's storm guardian. The man survived, but lost an arm in battle.

"What do you think went wrong?" Reborn asks. "Why do you think Xanxus lost?"

"If you're planning to ask me to teach Sawada-san about mafia strategy, I'll tell you now I'm not the correct person for this." She's facing him now, and the light from the outside reveals that beyond her wide eyes she's battling to stay composed. Reborn thinks she already knows what he will tell her and that she already knew for a long time.

"Again, why do you think Xanxus lost?"

"Not with that tone please, I am not your student," she bristles at first, but concedes. "Xanxus lost because he wasn't patient," Rosetta says, as she presses her fist against her mouth. "He would have become the tenth, eventually, if he wanted. He's far more powerful than his siblings. If the ninth wanted another heir he could always choose to opt for an inheritance battle." Her brows furrows. "Unless…"

Reborn holds his breath.

"Unless the ninth thought he was too insane to lead the family."

Reborn exhales.

"And even if he wanted to rebel, Xanxus didn't have enough men either. The Vongola consisted then of nearly ten thousand, the Varia had–"

Rosetta shuts her mouth. Reborn was mistaken then, she didn't know.

"Are you kidding me?" She says, pressing her palm against her forehead. "Are you fucking… my famiglia had five thousand men back then and if my dad died and his heirs died and if Xanxus held true to his claim then…"

"If he was able to marry you, then he would have had enough men for the coup. You were never supposed to die with them," Reborn's voice is soothing. "It's not your–"

"Motherfucker!" She yells. Her blank shock burns into tight-eyed anger. The water pitcher reflects it perfectly. She throws it against the nearest wall. It shatters.

"Hibari-chan–"

"No, shut up."

"Don't do anything stupid!" Reborn yells back. It doesn't calm her down. Rosetta grabs the glass, tempted to hurl it to the arcobaleno. "Don't do anything you might regret later on."

"He killed my family," Rosetta snarls. "He killed my family for something as stupid as–"

"And devoting your life to kill him won't bring them back. Calm down, they've been dead for–"

Rosetta throws the glass at his feet. Awakened from his slumber, Leon turns into a gun.

"I don't care about justice, I want to get even."

"Get even with what?" Reborn asks, infuriatingly patient. "You said it yourself, you're nothing now. Sit down before you embarrass yourself further."

"Don't act as if you care," she says, knees weakening. "Xanxus is still part of the Vongola. You have a duty to him."

"I do have a duty to him. Now think about why I said this."

She hides her face from him, rubbing her eyes with the back of her wrist.

"Why?" Her voice cracks.

"Because it's the truth and because I expect you to use it to your advantage." Pragmatic as always. Leon transforms back into a lizard.

"Fuck off," Rosetta says, still facing away from him. Reborn tips his hat at her and moves to the hallway. He's surprised when he sees Kyoya leaning by the wall, with his arms across his chest. They can hear Rosetta sobbing inside, the girl is trying her best to be quiet.

For a second, Reborn is afraid that Kyoya might do something stupid and impulsive. He always had more courage than sense. Then he reminds himself that he shouldn't tie himself with the affairs of the Hibari. Ryuusei might be a fair player, but he isn't a friend, not like the ninth was. Ryuusei is merely a fleeting ally.

He tips his hat to him.

Kyoya gives him a quick nod and tilts his head to the right when they hear Rosetta curse.

"You should go to her," Reborn whispers without thinking.

Kyoya doesn't look at him. "No," he says. "She's weak, but she's not pathetic."

* * *

 **A Note to the Reader:** (」ﾟДﾟ」(」ﾟДﾟ」(」ﾟДﾟ」(」ﾟДﾟ」(」ﾟДﾟ」

Yo. See you next week, or in a few days. Comments and suggestions are always welcome!

Gymnopédies is a set of piano pieces composed by a French pianist named Eric Satie. I don't play the piano myself, I toot the flute. (*＾∀゜) But it was playing while I was writing the last bits of this chapter. It's a piece that can be subject to different interpretations. If you're unfamiliar with it, you can listen to it on youtube, as Reborn described it, it's nostalgic!


	12. Tea Time

**A Note to the Readers:** I was considering whether I should divide this chapter in half or just go along with it. I got carried away and wrote the longest chapter yet. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it! (人ゝд∩)(人ゝд∩)(人ゝд∩)(人ゝд∩)(人ゝд∩)

* * *

 **CHAPTER ELEVEN**

Tea Time

* * *

Rosetta hates it when her phone rings during class hours. It's never an emergency. Ryuusei wouldn't call her if there was one. Why would he? She excuses herself with what she hopes is an apologetic smile and heads for the hallway. Enomoto detaches from the wall and follows her out.

"The Gesso attacked Mutsuo," Takenaka says in his atrocious Italian. He sounds worried.

She shuts her eyes. She had no reason to dislike Mutsuo. He seems to be Ryuusei's most level-headed son until you understood his morals. Still, he is as human as a Hibari can get. He is far more amiable than her husband and he smiles a lot, even if it's fabricated. "When was this?" She asks in Japanese.

"An hour ago," he says. Faint noises of panicked civilians filter through the phone. "Mutsuo is still alive, if not gravely injured. I'm at a hospital now–" Rosetta memorizes the address "–the doctors think he will lose a limb if he survives this."

They know how Ryuusei thinks of cripples.

"Hopefully not," Rosetta says. "I hope he lives." And she says this truthfully. Mutsuo is a far better successor than his younger brothers. Kuniyoshi is cruel for cruelty's sake, and it doesn't suit Kyoya to be a boss.

"And I hope you have found something on Nicodemo's bastard."

She straightens. "I haven't." The classroom doors open. It's lunchtime. Students leave the room in their groups, most ignore her, and a few throws her wary looks. They still remember her terrifying Himawari to tears, even when it was a month ago.

"The boss is angry," Takenaka says this with pity in his tone. "And when he does his anger tends to spread sideways."

"Be careful." Rosetta sees Tsuna idling by the door, biting his lip. Enomoto eyes him but says nothing.

"The warning is for you. I know how to tide through his rage. You're not doing much progress there. He might decide to punish you."

Rosetta is unsettled enough that her short bark of laughter is half-hearted. Tsuna shoots her a thoughtful look, she gives him a smile.

"What should I do?"

"Give him some results," Takenaka says.

She pauses, trying to hold back irritation from her voice. When she talks, she talks slowly, "Byakuran is smarter than the rest of Nicodemo's sons combined, you can't even find him. What makes you think I can?"

"Do you think he cares about that?" Takenaka's voice is sharp.

"Then giving me a warning was a waste of your time. Thank you for your concern." She does not sound bitter.

Takenaka clicks his tongue.

"Rosetta, listen. Do you know the Noctemina group?"

She picks through the information she has. "A small weapons supplier that branched out from Italy to Japan, the Carcassa wanted them to be their exclusive supplier. The boss' sister was close to Caterina Provenzano."

"Your cousin," Takenaka sounds impressed. "Martina Di Salvo, the sister you mentioned is getting married to Leonardo Lippi."

"Who?"

"A fresh recruit. One of Byakuran's men. His records seem clean. What I know is, Byakuran is sure to attend the wedding. It's two weeks from now."

"You want me to crash the party? What about the Vendicare? There's bound to be civilians."

"The boss wouldn't mind."

"He would," Rosetta sniffs. "He warned me specifically. He wants a clean kill."

Takenaka is silent. When he speaks, the words stick to his throat. "I'll help you with the Vendicare if it comes to that."

"You have money to pay them off?" Bail, they call it, the salary of a working man for fifty years for a small infraction. She doesn't even have that much money.

"I've been working for the boss for as long as I remember," Takenaka sighs. "I've earned my share."

"Why would you help me?"

"I owe you."

"Is this about your son? Kusakabe-san, I didn't save him."

"But I learned something," Takenaka whispers, she can almost see his well-suppressed grin before he makes a terrible joke. She rolls her eyes. He's not serious anymore. She might as well play along.

"What did you learn, Kusakabe-san?" She sighs.

"Valuable lessons," he grins.

* * *

"Shoo! You're not welcome here!" Hana leans forward with her hands on her hips. Tsuna raises his palms above his shoulders and speaks nervously. "I'm here for Hibari-san," he says, and he looks at Rosetta, past Hana's stiff frame and waves his hand in a tentative hello.

Rosetta puts her fork down. They've got the canteen's attention now. She knows Tsuna eats his lunch at the rooftop whenever Kyoya is on patrol. He never steps into the canteen, not if he wants his bullies to target him.

"Oh, is it a confession?" Someone whispers at the back, snickering.

"Shush! She's married, don't you know?"

"I don't see a ring."

The gossipers quiet when Enomoto crosses his arms threateningly. Rosetta makes a note to tell him to stop.

"Can it wait until later?" Rosetta asks. Tsuna looks surprised as if he has forgotten that they live under the same roof. He clears his throat. "Yes, right." But he doesn't leave.

Kyoko is now chewing on her lip. A speck of green is on her cheek from the salad she swears is vitamin rich. She's looking at Tsuna and Rosetta in open curiosity.

"Fine," Rosetta says, sliding from her seat. She pats Kyoko on the shoulder. "I'm sure it's nothing important."

Tsuna, she grabs on the bicep and half-pushes and half-drags him out to the hall. They pass beyond the club rooms, out to a small alcove outdoors behind the old library. She orders Enomoto to stand beyond hearing range and resists rubbing her temples when he salutes and pointedly faces away from the pair, eyes glimmering with eagerness. She doesn't trust him yet. At least he follows orders without question. Fusanosuke always had something to say.

"What is it?" She leans on the painted wall.

Tsuna breathes in. "I don't think you should kill Byakuran."

"Sawada-san–" Rosetta starts with a pained sigh. He wanted to talk about that. He gleaned information from her phone call.

"It's Tsuna, you can call me Tsuna," he says.

"That will not help your case, Tsuna. But you can call me Rosetta as well."

Tsuna doesn't look away. "You shouldn't kill him."

"Why not?" Rosetta tries to keep her tone light. "Tsuna, he's not a good person. He's killed and will kill a dozen more others in the future. You think we were his first unfortunate targets?"

"It's not his fault he is born in the mafia. I don't think he has any choice. Plus. I think he is a good person."

" _What?_ A _good_ person?"

"I can feel it. I know he is a good man. Just like I know that you're a good person too." Somehow, despite all evidence, she has led to him believe she's a martyr too.

"Tsuna, can you even hear yourself talk?"

"Of course, I can hear myself! I was born into the mafia and I want my second chance. You're born into the mafia as well. I'm sure you want your chance too."

Rosetta clicks her tongue, swallowing her temper that flares behind her lids. How arrogant of him to compare them. A bright yellow canary perches by the incinerator nearby, chirping and fluffing its wings.

"Are you trying to make me dislike you?" Rosetta warns. Her voice is flat, edgeless. "Do you honestly think the world works like that? How did you live up to fourteen being this naïve?"

Tsuna swallows, there's a click. His throat must be dry. Good.

He continues as if she didn't talk, he's actually applying her lessons. "You said it's better to negotiate than to murder. You said… You've been teaching me so many things. Why don't you believe what you say?"

"I believe what I say. And I know I am a hypocrite." Rosetta presses her mouth into a thin line. She has taught him how to disarm his opponents with diplomacy, the benefits of formal proposals, that running the mafia isn't the same as how Ryuusei runs his. She doesn't regret this. "If every teacher does not practice hypocrisy, then their students will learn nothing."

Tsuna doesn't seem to know what to say. He's thinking very deeply, she knows this because he tends to move his lips when he does.

"Tsuna, get back to your friends. You can't convince me like this."

"Why?" Tsuna looks up. "Is it because you think I'm stupid?"

"You're naïve. I've never called you stupid. Now go away."

"No," Tsuna says, pursing his lips. "You're a good speaker. You're smarter than I am. Why can't you convince yourself that killing another person is a terrible thing?"

Rosetta bristles. Tsuna wouldn't even have the courage to ask her husband these questions. Isn't he afraid of her? Does he think they're friends? Who does he think he is?

"Of course I know that! What the fuck? Tsuna, you're asking me to choose his life over mine! One of us will die. It's me or him!"

"Your boss wouldn't kill you. You said that!" He bursts out.

"Killing me is not the worst thing he can do. Do you know what he does to the wives and daughters of his enemies?"

Tsuna stares, taken aback by the terror in her voice.

"You're allies," Tsuna says after a second. "He wouldn't–" And then he loses his voice. Rosetta is roughly rubbing her face with her palm. The thin scar between her last fingers shines momentarily under the sunlight.

"Fuck," she says, running a hand up her loose bangs. "Tsuna, don't do this ever again. Mind your own, just…" She thinks what she needs to say next. "We're all terrible people in this _business_. Trying to assert a higher moral ground will do you no better than shooting your loved ones in the head. A heart in the underworld is a weakness."

Tsuna's back is on the wall, he slides down, as his knees weaken until he is at a crouched form. He hugs his legs.

"Every weakness contains strength within it," Tsuna mumbles.

"Shusaku Endo," Rosetta says, sighing. She crouches by Tsuna and puts a cold hand on his back, rubbing idly, trying to lighten the situation. "I see you're still a lot better at literature than math. Your tutors need to up their game."

Rosetta looks away to Enomoto who is standing stick straight.

Tsuna pushes her hand away, gentle even in the face of his frustrations.

"We have no choice, do we? Why does it have to be like that?"

"Because Iemitsu decided to be your father," she says, but her humor fades out when she sees the look on Tsuna's eyes.

"I will be the boss of the largest criminal organization existing at present," Tsuna says, staring beyond her. She's only seen the look on his face once when the boss punched her in the stomach. She thought she imagined it but there it is again. This time, when she swallows, it's her throat that's dry. "And when I do, I want to change this. I want to _change_ all of this."

Tsuna bows his head, squeezing his fists so hard that his knuckles are bone white. He's shaking like a leaf. The weight of helplessness after its complete acceptance is a heavy burden.

Rosetta wants to believe him with all her heart. Regrets follow her like a shadow, even on the brightest days. She truly wants to believe him. She _truly_ does. When she sees the resolve in his eyes, she almost gives in.

* * *

The wedding invitation looks expensive –onion skin, lace cut, velvet print with corners dipped in gold and silver. A professional handwrote the names of the superficially joyous couple in envious calligraphy. There's also a mindful translation in too formal Japanese on another card, also brushed by hand.

 _Maria Rosetta Santoro-Hibari_ _you are formally invited…_

She doesn't have to sneak in then. There is an invitation for her.

It's most likely a trap.

She doesn't react when Kyoya enters the balcony.

"Wedding invitations," she says, shifting to a more comfortable position. There's another one for her husband too. Most Mafioso weddings are a mere front for an occasion where prominent families can meet and make deals. Deaths are a near inevitability. She pushes the letter to her side, picking up a ledger meticulously filled up with Takenaka's cramped handwriting. She takes a calculator and rechecks his math.

The servants have placed a simple spread of snacks on her right. There's a porcelain kettle with tea brewed just the way she likes it.

Kyoya picks up the letters, scanning over the translations with a disinterested look. He puts it back almost immediately.

"I don't think you're coming with me, are you?" She says idly, highlighting a few entries with blue ink.

"You're going?" He asks.

"Maybe, maybe not, Takenaka-san said Byakuran might be there. I might have another proxy to take my place. Tetsuya-san is already making inquiries."

"You're planning to have a proxy do your job?"

Rosetta doesn't react, she taps the calculator for a few more seconds and encircles a row underneath, transferring the numbers to another ledger in what seems to be a code, but in closer inspection is just her lamentable handwriting. She needs to retype this later on before she sends it back to the boss.

"I know my limits and the consequences of disregarding it," she was hoping for companionable silence. "I don't go out to operations for a good reason."

"A non-combatant."

"Civilian might be a better term," she suggests with a smile. The term non-combatant coming from his lips sounds far more degrading than an insult.

Kyoya is unmoved by it. "You're not a civilian."

Rosetta sighs, marking the page she's working on as done. She takes her reading glasses from her pencil case and moves to the next page. "You seem to have this idea that–" her lip quirks "–muscles maketh man."

"It's discipline, not strength," he says to her surprise. "And again, you're not a civilian."

She is quiet for a moment, face creased as if she swallowed a retort. "Discipline, huh? Makes sense," she continues her work. "You don't get to your level of strength without training nonstop. Is that what you meant?" She doesn't see him train though. Unlike Tetsuya who jogs in the mornings –she still joins him sometimes.

Kyoya nods and walks to her left, taking his place beside her.

Rosetta jolts to his irritation, her ledger falling to a loud thud as she leans as further away as she can manage. Her eyes are wide, assuming an almost rabbity look of surprise, palms up as an automatic gesture to placate him.

He frowns.

She realizes what she has done and clears her throat, slowly putting her hands to her lap. He's not even that close, there is about a foot of distance between them, minus the pile of her binders at her side.

"I'm not going to touch you," he says in mild disgust as he pours himself a cup of her tea. The servants always leave two cups for her, privy to the knowledge that he visits sometimes.

She looks like she wants to say something again, but she bites the thought instead, opting for "I'm sorry" to his displeasure. It doesn't sound sincere at all. "The last time you sat beside me, we had an argument. I remember you storming off."

"Hn, yes. You should have been punished then."

Rosetta straightens up fractionally as she watches him take a sip of his tea with veiled satisfaction. He grimaces. She knows it's repulsive.

"What is this?"

"Oolong," she doesn't hide her grin which grows to his annoyance.

"The servants'?" Kyoya eyes the yellow concoction disapprovingly and sets it down the table. Rosetta leans forward, takes his cup and pours the contents to hers, drinking half on a single gulp. He narrows his eyes at her, not at all placated by her bright smile.

"It's the expensive stuff. Waste not, want not," she tilts the cup in a small toast and drinks the rest. It's bitter, nastily bitter, over-brewed –the kind that will keep her up until midnight if she has to.

Kyoya folds his arms. "I'll have the servants send you coffee. That was revolting."

"It's delicious," this one she says with honesty, staring back without flinching.

He grabs the kettle and chucks the unfortunate object over the balcony. It smashes.

Rosetta cries, scrambling out of her cushions to peer over the balustrade, her knuckles pale on the railings. Even under lamplight, she can see that the poor kettle is in pieces, bone white porcelain against the browning Bermuda grass. A retainer lurking by the nearest entrance shoots her a questioning look. She signs to him that nothing is amiss.

"You–" she looks back at Kyoya who seems unperturbed. Tetsuya pokes his head from the door and nods at Kyoya's short commands and leaves after he gives her a worried glance. "That was rude!" She flushes.

Kyoya's lip curls. "That was an abomination. Sit down."

She bristles but keeps her temper at bay. Kyoya watches her suspiciously as she rearranges her cushions and plops down without comment.

"Don't you feel cold at all?" She tries for conversation after she goes through a few more pages. Kyoya is reading a book of his own, something bound in black. She can't read the title, it's written in a traditional mandarin, something she cares too little to devote her time on studying.

"It's not that cold yet," Kyoya remarks, flipping through a page.

Rosetta wants her tea back. Her knuckles are stiffening. Earlier, she wished to wear two sweaters after her evening bath and is lamenting the fact that she chose fashion over functionality. Just because Kyoya might visit… she vows never to do the same ever again.

"I'll transfer to my room–"

"It's an infirmary," he corrects her again.

She rolls her eyes. "I'll transfer to the infirmary until the weather warms. I'll do my work there." It's an invitation. She peers at him with open innocence as his scowl deepens. She doesn't even know why she even tried. Her innocent look never worked, not even when she was truly naïve.

Kyoya ignores her bait. "You should change rooms."

"Iwasaki-sensei is a good conversationalist," she says, looking away. "I'm not as lonely as when I am with her." She feels his gaze on the side of her neck and reddens. At least she's warm like this.

"You? Lonely? I thought you had friends. Why don't you use them for their purpose?"

She bites her lip, counting to ten. Tetsuya enters silently and places a decanter from the kitchen. She thanks him with a strained expression and pointedly pours herself a cup, leaving Kyoya's empty. Tetsuya resumes his guarding.

She takes a sip and frowns. It doesn't taste like the servant's brew.

"I'm waiting for a response," he says when she purposefully ignores him.

"It's so difficult to have conversations with a man who doesn't know how," she points out with a small smile.

"You're correct," he admits to her shock. "I prefer demonstrations."

The silence that that comes next is definitely empty. Asking to be filled. Rosetta dislikes empty silences when they were together. Companionable silence, he'd simply ignore her and read his small novels. Empty silences, he'd stare at her neck.

"I'm not lonely!" She blusters when he doesn't stop, waving an indignant hand at his direction.

"Liar."

Rosetta scowls. "Fine! I am. But it's not as bad as you think. Namimori is a great improvement."

"Is it?"

"I don't have to stay awake listening to the boss insult Italian food or Kusakabe-san's complaints about his clerks' filing system." She takes the decanter and pours him a cup too. He takes it and sips and grimaces again to her open delight.

And then he says: "you can use my study for your paperwork."

A moment passes.

Rosetta stares, then her eyes narrow in suspicion. She tilts her chin. "I like the infirmary better." Plus his study looked too similar to his father's.

"The infirmary is not conducive to getting any work done." He looks up. Rosetta follows his gaze and sees a flutter of yellow birds streaming through the evening air. The canary settles on a nearby tree, eyeing them curiously.

"And your study is conducive to work? Won't you be there?" She doesn't need another person commenting on her handwriting.

"I don't use it."

She flushes. She tries to focus on her work, but a question is hounding at her heels.

"Say, don't you feel lonely too?" it's not smart to talk to him like this. A part of her mind she considers being her good sense and reasoning is yelling at her to apologize for her impertinence and hurtle off before she could do any irreparable damage. She doesn't have the excuse of being a poor vulnerable girl in the hospital any longer. Rosetta is wide awake for this.

His face twists into a faint moue of disapproval. He seems to decide whether to be impassive or violent. Without violence –Rosetta noticed during patrol– Kyoya seems to shut down to detachment.

He chooses impassivity to her relief.

"I don't mind loneliness," he tells her after a long, difficult minute.

"But it's not pleasant isn't it?"

"I said I don't mind it."

She sucks the side of her cheek, thinking.

"Is this why you dislike the idea of our friendship? Because you need no one?"

"Yes," he replies. She observes him, trying to see if he's lying and finds nothing but his solid glare.

"This sucks." And it's stupid and she really wishes that he'll grow out of that line of thinking. Humans live in a society. There is no point in thinking that anyone can live on their own, unless that person wishes to be a mountain hermit who subsists on small mammals for sustenance. Rosetta pours herself another cup of coffee. "You don't seem to need anything either, untouchable. I'm _so_ lucky to be your wife."

"You don't mean that," he says, losing interest now that she's fallen back to the arms of sarcasm.

"Of course, I don't."

"Mean what you say, will you?"

She grumbles, going back to her ledgers. But she finds that she cannot focus now. Not like this. Not where he's in a fantastic mood. She needs to use that to her advantage.

"Hey," she says after she recalculates the same set of numbers twice. She is careful when she says this. "I must have done something right, not that I know it. I can't –no don't interrupt me please– I know I should not presume how your mind works." The boss lectured her many times for assuming, she doesn't want the lecture from his son too. "You haven't been openly hostile for weeks. I don't want to change it." She breathes in and continues when he tilts his head. "Please don't get mad. I will not ask you to be my friend."

"Good," Kyoya nods approvingly.

"But I will say this. If there is anything I know. It's that people are never satisfied. You might be okay with being on your own today. But that might change with time." Rosetta swallows. She hears distant thudding and briefly registers that it's her heart. She moves to face him wholly, capturing his attention. It's strangely intoxicating to be the center of it. "If that ever happens, I want you to know that if I'm still alive, then–" she chuckles, but the humor isn't in her eyes "–I'm willing to be whatever it is you want me to be," she finishes this without affectation.

"You're offering yourself to me?" Kyoya shuts his book. "You don't know me."

Rosetta smiles. She bends her knees up and leans back, putting a polite distance between them.

"I think I know you enough," she whispers truthfully. Her mind is quiet now, good, look at all that space to think after she sent her commonsense packing. "I know that you don't lie, that you don't do things without reason. You like to fight but you're not cruel. I know you despise people and that you prefer silence and you hate touching. You also believe in your own sense of justice."

"If one truly reaps what he sows," he says mildly.

She grins, emboldened that he hasn't shut her down yet. This one she murmurs, "I also know you hate the boss." Kyoya's lips quirk. "I know your favorite meals. I know that you feed the canaries. That's why they follow you." She shuts her eyes. A part of her is terrified of him still -it's idiocy not to be wary of a predator. But she thinks of the little things. There was Marco, his ever-watchful canaries. She thinks of their more pleasant conversations. The singular visit he made to Tetsuya when he thought they were all asleep. His hospital visit. The way he stayed behind when Ryuusei punched her stomach. His school blazer from Kokuyo Land -still in her cabinet. Their patrols. The stupid tracking bracelet she doesn't even remove when she showers. "I know there is likely little I can do for you to truly care for me. And I can accept the nice things and the bad things about you because… For all it's worth, you're not so bad and I… I like you."

"Little you can do… You don't think I'm capable of emotion?" He ignores her confession.

Rosetta steels herself. She can be completely embarrassed later under the comfort of her solitude. "No," she says with the face of consummate professionalism, the one she uses when things go awry with the boss. "You care for animals. I think you're fine with Tetsuya-san. I don't think you'll ever grow to even like me at all. We're too different and we don't seem to agree with each other," she gestures to the coffee.

It startles her when his expression frosts over. "My father often praised you for your intelligence. I see that he was misguided."

She shakes her head, bemused. "Excuse me, what?"

"If I wanted like-mindedness and blind agreement, I wouldn't be talking to _you._ " He sneers.

Her face burns unpleasantly as the implication drops like a hot stone on the pit of her stomach. "I don't think I understand." Of course, she understands! But his words might have filtered through a mesh of hope she did not realize she still clung to.

"I married a fool."

That's a confirmation.

Rosetta laughs outwardly, looking away. Her face is definitely flaming red. She briefly debates if she should stifle her surprising shyness and opt for confidence but settles on the truth, wildly fanning her face as her brain eagerly processes his words. She won't be able to sleep tonight. Maybe she'll even tell Iwasaki-sensei if she doesn't build her resolve fast enough. For now, she needs to know what she did right. This was not how she expected her evening to go. "Kyoya-san, what am I supposed to do with that information?"

He doesn't really _raise_ an eyebrow, but the questioning look is there before it peels away into mild disapproval. His claws are out and there is a dangerous edge about the way he curls his lips. "Be smart about it."

Rosetta opens her mouth, about to say something witty and daring and self-indulgent. Something that would make her conservative grandmother roll in her grave. But her words stick to her tongue. She sinks back to her cushions, chest tightening, too shy to even look at him. She's not twelve anymore, she's fifteen! And they've already kissed before! In front of an audience! There's no reason to be mousy!

"You're finally quiet," Kyoya puts his book down.

"You just… You just wanted to shut me up?" She grimaces, looks horrified for a beat and then bristles. It does not fool Kyoya. He's seen her puffing her feathers far too many times in front of his men, pretending to be angry. Red travels down her cheeks to her throat, to the hollow of her collarbones which she quickly covers with a sleeved hand when she follows his gaze.

"I'm leaving," she lifts her chin, scraping what's remained of her pride as she grabs her ledgers, nearly tripping over the cushions as she sweeps the table clean of her paperwork. She leans forward and fishes the binders from between them with a scowl.

"My hour isn't over yet," he points out flatly, relieved and oddly… disappointed.

She's grasping her books so haphazardly that one falls and hits her foot. She lets go of everything and raises her hands above her head in a mock gesture of submission, snarling, oblivious that people have been crippled for less. "To hell with your hour!" She says and marches off, closing the door with an uneasy slam.

Later, as he's parsing through her abandoned books, Tetsuya pops his head in and clears his throat.

"Is everything okay?"

Kyoya frowns. Tetsuya is spending too much time with her. He never used to ask many questions. He closes the ledger. Her penmanship leaves a lot to be desired. "Bring this to her."

Tetsuya nods, silently gathering her work. When he is finished Kyoya halts him with a hand.

"Yes, Kyo-san?"

"That was none of your business. Ask me another half-witted question and I'll bite you to death."

Tetsuya's face might have been carved from marble. "Of course, Kyo-san."

* * *

Later on, Tetsuya pauses by the house infirmary and knocks politely, nodding at the retainers who salute. Three short taps, loud enough to be audible, soft enough to seem unimposing.

Rosetta doesn't welcome him in. She takes two trips to collect the binders on his arms. On the third round, he clears his throat and observes the room.

"No patients today?" He asks. Iwasaki isn't present.

"Noya-san cut her finger this morning. Nothing else," Rosetta says, with a hard-eyed stare. "Good night Tetsuya-san."

Tetsuya grins. "I heard you and Kyo–"

She slams the door to his face. He can hear her footsteps tapping away before she pauses and runs back to him, sliding the door open.

"Are you going to talk if I ask you questions about my husband?" She barks in quick Italian, eyeing the retainer by the door with an openly suspicious face.

"It's not like I have a choice," Tetsuya tells her, assuming an expression of resignation. "I'd rather have it done tonight rather than tomorrow when I have work."

"Of course, you have a choice!"

"I don't."

"You do," she presses. "I'm not a tyrant."

"You're not, but you will try to bribe me with lunch tomorrow afternoon. I'd rather not have that."

She frowns, but there is humor in her voice. "What's wrong with that? Equivalent exchange. You can always tell Kyoya-san I bribed you with my cooking if he finds out, maybe he'll even deign to have a taste."

He smiles wryly, smashing down unwanted memories.

"I doubt that."

"Suit yourself," she sniffs, and unceremoniously drags him inside.

* * *

She finally gives in to Kyoko's insistence to meet their other friend. Haru is from a neighboring all-girls school. She likes to sew and her mother and father are both college professors who teach applied mathematics in Tokyo. They sent Haru to stay in Namimori with her grandparents after several bouts of asthma attacks that convinced them she needed fresh air and a less stressful environment. According to Kyoko, the girl knows how to cook too and that they should switch recipes after having lunch by a well-known café near the shopping district.

Rosetta comes in five minutes before eleven, wearing a thick sweater and woolly socks. She spots them crowded around a table in the furthest corner, by the windows. Tetsuya frowns.

"What the hell are you wearing?" Hana comments as she takes her seat. Kyoko tries not to giggle at Rosetta who raises an eyebrow at them.

"It's cold," Rosetta complains mulishly.

"It's not that cold," Kyoko bites her lip. Haru giggles.

Rosetta rolls her eyes. "Tetsuya-san, it's cold, isn't it? Back me up here."

Tetsuya who is wearing a simple button up and pants settle faintly into the background. "No comment," he says. He removed her scarf on the way in, despite her protests.

Haru turns out to be a touch eccentric. Upon expression of adequate curiosity, the brunette soon has Rosetta stuck to the gallery of her phone, scrolling through pictures of her handmade costumes.

"There are four hundred of these," Rosetta remarks as Haru and Kyoko points out her favorite ones. She looks at Hana for aid but the girl is busy with her phone.

"I know!" Haru exclaims. "We should go together at the temple this new year. I can whip you up a costume if you want," she says, fishing out a measuring tape. Unconcerned with consent. It's oddly endearing and annoying at the same time.

Rosetta laughs awkwardly, feeling out of her depth. "Slow down. Isn't that supposed to be a family event?"

To that, Hana tucks her phone away and wriggles her eyebrows suggestively.

"You will go with your husband, will you?"

Kyoko slaps Rosetta playfully on the shoulder as Haru's eyes widen.

"With _Hibari Kyoya_ ," Haru whispers almost reverently, then flits to Rosetta and clutches her hand. Rosetta nearly flinches from the touch, biting the side of her cheek in horror as Haru squeals in delight. "That's so romantic!" Apparently, Haru has school friends who formed a fan club for her husband and wanted to meet her before but mysteriously stopped. Tetsuya cleared his throat rather loudly when Haru told her the story.

"I was twelve," Rosetta whispers, trying not to cringe. "Our parents made a deal."

Haru grabs her hand and continues as if she didn't speak. Rosetta wants to go home and take a long hot shower and forget about the screaming.

"Where's your ring?" Haru inquires, sounding disappointed, lifting Rosetta's finger.

"She thinks people will steal her gold," Hana supplies.

"I didn't say that."

"You meant it though," Hana shoots. Her phone buzzes again. She ignores Haru's barrage of questioning as she scrolls through the message. "Hey, my boyfriend says he's nearby. He wants to meet you all, just to say hi."

"You have a boyfriend?" Kyoko asks, betrayed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to keep him a secret for a bit!" Hana blushes, clutching her phone to her chest as Kyoko tries to snatch it from her. "He's too good to be true!"

"Oh! Is it that man you saw on the roof?" Haru squeals, trying to grab the phone too. A couple at the table nearest to them expresses their displeasure by clearing their throats. It goes ignored. "Did you finally ask him out?"

"What man on the roof?" Rosetta asks but is ignored as the girls wrestle for the phone, relieved that the attention isn't solely on hers anymore.

"Tetsuya-san, someone might come to meet us," she says. Haru asked about the retainers an hour ago and was supplied with the sight of Hana teasing Rosetta nonstop about her husband's protective streak. Haru ate it up hungrily.

"Got it," the man pulls a face and calls somebody on his phone.

"He's hot!" Haru squeals as Hana turns into a rough shade of scarlet.

"Jeez, I should have told him to stay away," Hana mumbles as Haru passes the phone to Kyoko.

Kyoko squeals as well, teasing Hana. Rosetta watches them contentedly before curiosity takes over. "Give me the phone," she says. "I want to see too."

"You'll see him later!" Hana whines but Kyoko pretends to not have heard, passing the phone to Rosetta.

Her blood freezes when she sees the man's face. She puts the phone down.

"Tetsuya-san, don't let the boyfriend in! He's not–" the words die in her throat. How stupid was she to relax? Tetsuya is staring beyond her, face pale. He has a hand behind him, presumably reaching for a gun. Rosetta puts a hand up in warning.

"Hello ladies," Byakuran waves at them.

Hana stands, ready to meet her boyfriend's outstretched arms but Tetsuya blocks her.

"What is this? Security?" Hana chuckles. "He's my–"

"Boyfriend, yes," Tetsuya finishes, clutching her tightly. Although willful, Hana always had good instincts. She doesn't fight Tetsuya, merely raises an eyebrow at him.

"I'm just here for a friendly chat," Byakuran says, ignoring them, his teeth shine too brightly under the white lights. "Rosetta-chan, Hana-chan told me so much about you."

"What do you want?" Rosetta smiles sharply.

"A friendly visit for a friendly chat, as I said, may I sit?"

"No, you may not," Rosetta says. Kyoko pales, taking Haru's hand as she throws Rosetta a worried look.

"Is this how the Hibari treat their guests?"

Rosetta stands and paces just until she's between Byakuran and the girls. Tetsuya is saying something to Hana, trying to dissuade the girl into acting rashly. Hana is pale, staring at Byakuran with wide eyes.

"Unwanted guests are normally discouraged to show their faces."

"Persistence is a key trait."

Cold numbness takes root on the base of her spine. "Not when invested to a fruitless endeavor," she replies, shakily. The last time she refused him, he nearly killed her. "Why don't we take this somewhere private?"

Byakuran's smile pinches to a deadly edge. "This is private enough," when he says this the patrons in the café stand to leave, down to the dishwasher. Even the ambient music dies. When the door clicks shut, Rosetta forces her jaw to unclench. The men outside are probably dead, judging by Tetsuya's grim expression.

"They're civilians," she puts a hand on the table. "Let them go, this is between us."

"What's happening?" Hana speaks, her voice trembling, reaching for the pepper spray in her bag.

"You're hostages darling," Byakuran replies toothily.

"What the f–"

Kyoko screams as the window explodes in a hail of lead. Silverware fly to the ceiling. Wood and porcelain shatter. Something warm and thick splashes on Rosetta's side and she isn't embarrassed by the quick relief she feels when she turns and finds that it's coffee and not blood and that her friends are all alive. Haru screams and hides under the table that can't protect her. Hana grabs Kyoko and tries to make a run for the exit. But Byakuran stops them with a gun of his own.

"This place is full of windows. You'll turn into a beehive if you take one more step," he warns.

"Fuck you!" Hana yells. Kyoko begins crying.

"I always hated your cursing," Byakuran says, pointing a gun at Hana's forehead. "Another word and you'll die. Sit down. That's right, sit down and be good. Let Rosetta-chan save you."

"Rosetta-san–" Tetsuya urges, hand on his gun.

"Don't," Rosetta says.

"He's right there, we can–"

"We touch him and we die in a rain of bullets," she says, the hard edge of her consonants wavering at the end.

"Fusanosuke-kun told me you were smart. Far more reasonable than the men in your family. He tried to be loyal till the end, you know?"

"He's still a traitor," she says, detaching herself from her position by the table, idly scanning the café with false disinterest.

"My snipers are ordered to shoot everyone the moment I die. They-"

"Skip the pleasantries."

Byakuran chuckles. "So impatient, we lead such terrible lives, I try to relish my moments. Well, again I come here for peace. Ryuusei's personal war has dragged out for months. His vengeance is draining your resources. You have soldiers, yes, but not enough for his vicious manhunts. He doesn't know Italy so well without you by his side." He assesses her. Oddly enough, that sentiment is true. "I can tell you where my father is, where his son is. Not precisely, but they send me their coordinates providing I dance to their tune." His lip curls at that, obviously, he doesn't like it. "This can end quickly."

"The boss was right when he called your family a bunch of snakes."

"Is that why you don't want to negotiate? Please, you're hardly any better," he says this with a sharp self-satisfied smile, watching her keenly as she paced around the room. "I'm a bastard. I have nothing. If Ryuusei kills me and my father and his remaining son, do you think other famiglia won't fight over our lands? Won't fight him? The mafia is a bunch of crows. Your family would pay a bigger sum for a small strip of property," he hisses, it strains his smile. "I can _help_ him. I'm willing to give half of the Gesso's assets if I'm named the boss. It's cleaner like this."

She pauses, leaning by the cashier. The windows are all facing away from her.

The girls have quieted down. It's much better when they were crying. Now Rosetta knows they're listening.

"I can't do that," she says with far more honesty than she intends. It's not the time to lie. She shuts her eyes. "I can't–" Kyoko sobs.

Byakuran eyes her critically, and then he sighs. "I'm disappointed. You're exactly like your father-in-law."

That splits something in her. Rage uncoils like a snake.

"You think I deny you because of pride? That was an excellent plan. Trust me, I want to say yes," she hisses savagely and before she can stop herself she says: "Did you really expect that my words have sway to his judgment?"

"You're his consiglieri," Byakuran presses after a terrible silence.

"I'm a fucking woman!" She laughs, she cannot take back that confession. "I'm much use to him as a bastard like you!"

"No, _no_ ," Byakuran says, shaking his head. "I did not come here to waste my time."

"You just did."

"I'll kill your friends if you don't do it."

She laughs bitterly, sweeping her hand to Kyoko's tear-streaked face. "You'll risk the Vongola hounding your back. The incoming tenth is fond of her."

"That's a bluff. There is no Vongola tenth."

"You've seen reports of Reborn's continued presence in Namimori, haven't you? What is a working hitman of that caliber doing here for months?"

A memory seems to light in his head. "Like the Chiavarone heir," he grinds out. Byakuran has always been handsome the way serpents are, he is an uglier creature when cornered. He sucks in a breath, pressing his free palm against the mark under his eye. "It doesn't matter," he says with the carelessness of a man about to see his dreams crushed. "It doesn't matter who this Vongola tenth fucks in his spare time. My offer still stands. You either help me or your friends will die. If you lie, I'll make sure they suffer."

"I told you. It's _impossible_."

"Do you need motivation?" Saying this he pushes past her and grabs Haru by the back of her shirt. Haru screams, tries to scratch him, but ultimately mellows when he points the gun at her temple. Hana freezes, clutching at Kyoko like a lifeline. "I can kill this one first."

Rosetta doesn't think when she conjures a gun with her flames, pointing it at Byakuran's surprised face. She's trembling. The sole display of the gut-wrenching terror she's shoving down with the prospect of survival. She can shoot him now. The snipers can't touch her where she is standing. Byakuran is careless to let her walk around. She knows reinforcements are coming. If they're late, an escape isn't impossible, far easier without baggage weighing her down.

But that means condemning her friends to death. Hana and Kyoko dead. The only girls who bothered to talk to her in class.

"Please," Haru chokes. "Hibari-san. I don't want to die. Please Hibari-san, help me I didn't do anything wrong-"

Haru is staring at her, eyes wide and pleading. She probably understands nothing. She doesn't know that with Byakuran dead many more deaths in the future might be prevented. He is not a good man. Three innocents versus hundreds of lives that may be ruined. Kyoko is saying something incomprehensible, trying to break against Hana's aggressive hold. To do what? To accompany Haru in her demise? Rosetta looks away and meets Byakuran's face, filled with amusement. He doesn't even have the decency to act terrified. That should make her angrier, but it doesn't. He seizes Haru wrist and waves her hand in a mocking goodbye.

Rosetta puts her gun down and stiffly wipes her tears with her sleeve.

The boss isn't there. She knows, but all she can think of is the odd warmth of his hands as he held her fingers and ordered her to shoot.

"I never thought you had the gall," Byakuran smiles, patting Haru on the head. He sounds so pleased. "You have until the wedding. We've sent an invitation to you. I want results by then, in the meantime…" He drags Haru up by the arms. "I'll keep them and–"

"I won't try if you take hostages," Rosetta grits out. She sounds like a child again.

"You're in no position to bargain. I'll treat them well. You have my word."

"I told you they're under the protection of–"

"And I _don't care._ You're grasping at straws now. Do you think the Vongola will spend resources to avenge them? As you said, I'm a bastard. They won't care -not that much. If they truly are important, then it's motivation for the incoming tenth to assist you is it not?"

Rosetta doesn't say anything.

"I've involved civilians before. The Vendicare is silent as long as I pay their exorbitant fees. I suggest you start working now. I'm not very patient, not anymore."

And that's it. Powerless to stop him, Rosetta and Tetsuya remain at the sidelines as Byakuran forces the women to the exit. Hana, the last to leave, is the only one who doesn't sob outwardly. She meets Rosetta's eyes with her steel-edged resolve and mouths, "don't let him get away with this."

Rosetta sinks to the floor, the gun disappearing as she puts her hands on her face. The gravity of her decisions sinking in. Tetsuya kneels to her side.

"Did I do the right thing? Did I… Gods Tetsuya-san, what have I done?"

* * *

Tetsuya doesn't have the correct answers. It's not fair to ask him. What he has are responsibilities. They lost six men: two snipers, three retainers and the driver that brought them to the café. It was a long thought out plan. Bribes were no doubt handed out to the local police, to men in their own service, far beneath the hierarchal ecosystem of the boss. Fear wins obedience, but money wins loyalty. A harsh reality often learned through harsher lessons.

The call comes merely an hour after they bring Rosetta back to the house. It's the boss. Ryuusei asks clipped questions. He doesn't sound distressed or angry. Tetsuya doesn't know if he should feel relieved. Rosetta should be safe. She should be fine. Eventually, they'll find the girls and she'll have another opportunity to bring down Byakuran and then she'll be okay again and then she'll cook again and play happier tunes in the piano at the attic when she thinks she's alone. He is disgusted at himself at his positivity. But he has lost his anchor when his father tried to kill him, even when the gun was empty.

"Give her the phone," Ryuusei says after he asks Tetsuya to repeat the events for the fourth time.

"She's not with me."

"I can wait."

He does wait as Tetsuya looks for her. Twice he nearly decides to shut the call, to feign the loss of signal or pretend that his battery is dying. But he knows the boss has other means. Rosetta isn't in her room, not at the balcony or at the attic. Not in her usual haunts. He finds Rita, and she leads him to Kyoya's study.

The door is open, flanked by two of his father's most loyal men. Rosetta is inside, curled by the base of Kyoya's desk, speaking quietly to Tsuna and Reborn, fiddling with her bracelet. Her eyes are red and she is paler than a sheet.

She straightens when he arrives and takes the phone.

"Yesterday the doctors removed Mutsuo's mangled hand. Choose the one you want to keep," Ryuusei says.

Rosetta closes her eyes.

"My right, boss."

"Why is that?"

"You already started with my left," she says.

"Then you have made your choice and I will accept," Ryuusei says bloodlessly. "Watanabe-san, did you hear that?"

Watanabe is one of the two retainers by the door. He confirms, he has his own phone. Tetsuya doesn't know how he missed that detail.

"Good," Ryuusei says and shuts the call.

Watanabe is a large man. Tetsuya has never heard him speak before, when he does, it's almost apologetic. He asks Rosetta to put her hand on the desk which she follows, silent tears dripping down her clothes. Tsuna tries to stop him, but Reborn shakes his head. It's none of their business according to hitman. Tsuna doesn't care, he tries to attack Watanabe but Reborn subdues him. He struggles in a futile effort under Reborn's expert hold. Insect under a pin.

Watanabe lifts his knife. Rosetta meets Tetsuya's horrified eyes, the dark green of her iris is striking under her lashes.

"Don't move, Tetsuya-san," she says and the knife falls.

The noise that comes after shatters Tetsuya's helplessness in a wash of relief that grasps at his throat. Watanabe howls in pain, clutching at his fingers. The knife clatters on the floor, bloodless. Kyoya's weapon is embedded through the window. The man himself is standing at the doorway, inhuman in his fury.

"Start explaining," Kyoya hisses.

* * *

 **A Note to The Readers:** I have now butchered canon. You guys have no idea how freaking nervous I was to post this. Be daring they said!

One thing I wish to share is that on the scene where Kyoya and Rosetta are chilling at the balcony, I mentioned that Kyoya reads this obscure book. As I was typing that I didn't know I had a friend reading from my shoulder. That friend said: "he must be reading a book titled "How to be a Chuunibyou for Dummies"" and this entire story NEARLY got ruined by that statement. Suddenly I was struck with a subplot that only works in this story that also makes no sense –but was freaking hilarious– and was very tempted to start working on that.

I'm glad I didn't.

Well! What the heck. The next chapter will be available next week or maybe in two weeks since I have loads of work to do. Some freaking badass teamwork is BOUND to happen btw. I've made a bullet list for the next chapters. Hopefully, that will ease up my writing.

Comments, suggestions and violent reactions are welcome. Tell me what you think of this hot mess! ༽΄◞ิ౪◟ิ‵༼༽΄◞ิ౪◟ิ‵༼༽΄◞ิ౪◟ิ‵༼


End file.
